


Three of a Kind

by starkerscoop



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: But no actual cheating I promise, Clueless Peter Parker, College Student Peter Parker, Domestic Fluff, Getting Together, Identity Reveal, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Insecure Tony Stark, Jealous Tony Stark, Kid Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mentioned Skip Westcott, Minor Angst, Not inflicted by main pairing, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parent Peter Parker, Parent Tony Stark, Suspected Cheating
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:27:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 38,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26652913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkerscoop/pseuds/starkerscoop
Summary: With May having moved to another state, and Peter being unable to afford an apartment, Tony was more than happy to invite Peter to live with him and Morgan.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 388
Kudos: 734





	1. Chapter 1

With Peter being a broke college student, and May having moved to Florida a few months prior for a job promotion, it only made sense for Tony to invite him to live with him and Morgan. It took a lot of convincing; Peter was afraid of imposing on their routine or bothering them with his presence. 

Tony assured him that he was absolutely wanted in their home. 

“What about Morgan, though? This is her home too.” Peter pointed out. 

“I already spoke to her,” Tony brushed off his worries, “In fact, it was her idea.” 

Peter bit his lip regretfully. “I can’t afford the rent.” 

“Seriously?” Tony glared at him, “In what world would I make you pay rent?” 

Peter relented then. In comparison to their past quarrels, he really hadn’t been putting up much of a fight. Admittedly, he was excited to live with the Starks. They were some of his favorite people in the world, and he didn’t get to see them very often. 

Tony and Peter stepped into the penthouse with the latter’s meager two boxes of belongings. Tony had scoffed when he’d seen them, and proclaimed that they’d be going shopping some time soon. Peter didn’t bother to protest. Whether he agreed to go shopping or not, Tony would find a way to fill up his wardrobe and drawers. 

“Petey!” Morgan slid off of the stool she was perched on and raced towards him, small arms outstretched.

Peter bent down and picked her up, hugging her close and twirling her around. “I missed you, Mo.” 

“Guess what happened today?” Morgan wriggled around until he put her down and went back to the counter, on which a piece of paper was laying with a pack of crayons on top. 

“What?” Peter exchanged amused looks with Tony, who was watching them with a small smile. 

“Ms. Rachel told us we could draw our favorite superhero for the art showcase!” Morgan stood on her tiptoes and snatched her paper from the counter, which she presented to Peter proudly. “I said my favorite was Spider-Man, but Daddy said that wasn’t fair because Spidey was his favorite, too, and we couldn’t have the same one. He wanted me to draw Iron Man.”

“Your daddy just wants to be your favorite,” Peter snorted, heart melting as he took in the blue, red, and gold scribbles, “but I see you found a compromise.” 

“Yeah,” Tony sniffed, pretending to be offended, “If she was going to draw you anyway, the least she could do was draw me too.” 

“It’s okay, Tony,” Peter consoled, patting his arm, “You’re still my favorite.” 

Morgan and Tony sent him identical smiles, and Peter had to take a moment to just take them in. In the time that they hadn’t seen each other, Tony’s hair had grown more specks of gray, while Morgan’s was now a couple of inches longer. They looked happier than last time; Tony’s stress lines were largely gone, and the brightness of Morgan’s eyes were proof of her contentment. 

Peter supposed they were both glad that the divorce was over and done with. It had been a stressful period of time for everyone involved. Morgan had been confused and upset, wondering where her mom was going; Tony had been betrayed and in parts relieved; he told Peter later that he’d been thinking about leaving Pepper beforehand, because he could feel his love for her fading, and he hadn’t wanted to string her along. 

Pepper’s unfaithfulness had still hurt him, though. Peter didn’t understand how she could ever do something that would jeopardize her place in this family, let alone go behind Tony’s back like that. 

“So, what’s this art showcase you mentioned?” Peter asked Morgan curiously, following her into the living room with Tony at his heels. 

“It’s on Friday, and the whole school gets to be in it,” Morgan explained, and then her eyes turned pleading, “Will you come, Petey? Please?” 

“Yeah, Petey,” Tony sat down on the sofa and patted the spot next to him, motioning for Peter to join him, “Will you come?” 

“Hm,” Peter pretended to think, tapping his chin and trying not to laugh at the hope on Morgan’s face, “I guess I could spare some time for my favorite Stark.” 

Tony perked up. “That’s me, right? I’m your favorite Stark?” 

“Daddy,” Morgan scolded, “You can’t be the favorite Stark _and_ the favorite superhero. Pick one.” 

Tony looked affronted. “Well, why not?” 

“You said that only mean people are greedy,” Morgan said slowly, as if Tony was being particularly stupid, “But you’re not mean.” 

Tony put his hands up innocently. “Alright, alright. You can be the favorite Stark, Morguna.” 

Morgan beamed and jumped onto the couch in between Tony and Peter, forcing them to move apart and make space for her. Once she was comfortably nestled, she leaned into Peter’s side and stuck out her tongue at Tony teasingly.

Tony rolled his eyes. “I don’t know where you got all that sass from.” 

“Oh, you don’t?” Peter asked dubiously. 

“No one asked you, Parker,” Tony scowled, but the mirth in his eyes gave away that he was just as amused as the other two. 

“What are we having for dinner?” Morgan asked her dad, swinging her legs where they were hanging over the edge of the couch. 

“Anything you want,” Tony shrugged, before glancing at Peter, “Maybe we should go out somewhere and celebrate that Pete moved in with us.” 

“McDonald’s?” Morgan pitched buoyantly. 

“We just had that last week.” Tony shook his head. 

“We can have it again…” Morgan trailed off suggestively. 

Peter cut in then. “How about we cook something? I’m too tired to go out, anyway.” 

“Pete,” Tony sent him a disbelieving look, “There’s no way you forgot how horrible I am at cooking.” 

“And I had Aunt May to teach me,” Peter said pointedly, “It’s not like I’m any better.” 

“I wanna cook with Petey,” Morgan hopped into the conversation, immediately changing her mind about McDonald’s.

“You two are always going to gang up on me, aren’t you?” Tony asked flatly. 

Peter dodged the question and said, “It’ll be fun, Tony, come on. And we can all bond as new roommates.” 

Tony rolled his eyes but agreed, and off they went to the kitchen. They figured they’d try something simple for their first time, and decided to make some spaghetti. Morgan pulled a silver pot out of the cabinet while Tony withdrew the packs of spaghetti. Peter hovered near the doorway until Tony pulled him inside, not quite ready to prance around the kitchen as if he owned it. 

“You live here now,” Tony murmured, deliberately out of Morgan’s earshot, “You’re going to have to start getting comfortable.” 

“Daddy?” Morgan called, eyes trained on the boxes in his hands, “Why’d you take so many?”

Tony set them on the counter with a quiet rattle. “Remember how I said Peter needs to eat a lot so he can be strong when he goes out as Spider-Man?” 

“Oh, yeah.” Morgan nodded and pulled open the doors to the fridge, rummaging around until she found a green apple that she pressed into Peter’s hand, “Eat, Petey. You gotta be strong.” 

“Thank you, Mo.” Peter grinned and bit into the apple, wincing slightly at the overwhelmingly sour taste. 

They joined Tony in front of the stove, watching the water in the pot slowly boil. The three tore open the packages while they waited and, once the water was ready, let Morgan snap the long strands of spaghetti in half and drop them into the pot. 

They all stared at the spaghetti silently until Peter spoke up. “Should we mix it? I think it’s clumping together.” 

“No,” Tony said uncertainly, “I think that’s part of the process.” 

“But then it’ll all be stuck.” Morgan piped up. 

“You’re absolutely right, hon, let’s mix it.” Tony picked up his spatula and poked the food.

“Tony, you’re helpless,” Peter groaned and took the spatula from him, moving the spaghetti around the bowl and getting it to break apart a little. 

“I feel like we’re forgetting something.” Tony said five minutes later.

Peter shrugged and turned off the fire. He grabbed the plates Tony held up for him and served them all big balls of spaghetti. Morgan scrutinized hers in fascination, and tried to pry it apart. It started breaking in her hands, and Tony quickly stopped her before she could do any further damage. 

“Maybe you were right,” Peter acknowledged reluctantly, “McDonald’s would’ve been better than this slime ball of noodles.” 

“It’s not so bad,” Tony tried to lie, placing a forkful of the unseasoned meal into his mouth, “but I did figure out what we’re missing.” 

“It’s okay, Petey,” Morgan said through her mouthful, ignoring Tony’s reminder to chew, “Daddy cooks way worse than you.” 

“Objection, your Honor!” Tony gasped, lips twitching when it made Peter laugh. 

Morgan continued talking, “I’m glad you live with us now.” 

“Me too,” Peter smiled warmly. Sure, their first meal together had failed, and it was probably his fault. But the whole point was that they were together now. “I think this is going to be really fun.”


	2. Chapter 2

Peter was startled out of sleep the next morning when a small body launched itself onto his bed. He opened his eyes and looked around blearily for the source of the disturbance. He didn’t have to search for very long; Morgan was on her knees and shaking him as strongly as a five year old could. 

“Wake up!” Morgan commanded.

Peter sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes, “What time is it?” 

“Um,” Morgan checked the digital clock on his nightstand, “It’s seven.” 

Peter fell back onto the bed, groaning in despair, “Why would you wake me up so early?” 

“I’m hungry,” Morgan pouted, yanking on his arm in an attempt to get him to sit up again, “and FRIDAY said not to wake Daddy because he went to bed late.” 

“I’m sure your daddy would want you to come to him for anything you need.” Peter pushed his blanket off of himself reluctantly, leaving behind the warmth of his bed as Morgan led him to the kitchen. 

“He does,” Morgan looked up at him with a small grin, “but now you’re here and you can feed me too.” 

Peter nodded in understanding, and swept her up and onto his hip, giving her the proper height needed to see the contents of the cabinets he was looking at. 

“What are we feeling today, Mo?” Peter spotted a box of poptarts and set them on the counter. 

“I want cereal.” Morgan said simply. 

Peter glanced at one of FRIDAY’s sensors. “Hey, FRI? Can Morgan have cereal? What does Tony usually give her?” 

“Morgan is allowed to have cereal for breakfast,” FRIDAY assured him before saying, “It is what Boss usually gives her when whatever he was cooking for her has been declared improper for consumption.” 

Peter laughed at that and set Morgan down, pouring her a bowl of cereal and then adding milk. He slipped a spoon in and set it on the island, which Morgan was already trying to climb onto. He noticed a step stool -- it was Morgan’s, if the purple ‘M’ painted on it meant anything -- and slid it over to where she was still struggling to get on her tall chair. 

“I guess you got your height from your daddy,” Peter mused quietly. 

While Morgan did her best to eat without spilling anything, Peter grabbed a couple of poptarts from the box and bit into them, chewing quickly enough that he’d be done before Morgan. 

Tony came stumbling in ten minutes later, looking dead on his feet, but he brightened up a bit when he noticed them. 

“Well, would you look at that! My baby and my,” Tony cut himself off, “friend.” 

“I’m not a baby.” Morgan protested, scowling. 

“Of course you aren’t,” Tony said easily, brushing past her to start up his coffee maker, “You’re just my youngest child.” 

Morgan set her spoon down, too confused to continue eating, “I’m your only child.” 

“No, Morguna,” Tony sighed happily into his fresh mug, “The bots are older than you by a couple of decades, but they’re still your siblings.” 

Morgan nodded and pushed away her bowl, apparently done with it, though it was only half-empty. She wandered over to the fridge and produced an apple identical to the one she’d given Peter the day before. 

She bit the apple with a loud crunch, and immediately cried out, dropping the fruit onto the floor as tears started welling up in her eyes. 

Peter reached her first, rubbing her shoulders consolingly, “What’s wrong, Mo?” 

The little girl opened her mouth to speak, and a small tooth promptly fell out. She cried harder at the sight, bringing her trembling hands up to her mouth. 

“Oh, Morgan,” Peter picked up the tooth, hiding his disgust at the saliva and blood covering it, “It’s just your tooth. Now the Tooth Fairy can stop by!” 

“It’s the first baby tooth she’s ever lost,” Tony explained, crouching next to them to admire the tooth and calm down his daughter, “Didn’t I tell you that this would happen, honey?” 

Morgan shook her head, her small whimpers coming to a stop as she timidly asked, “Who’s the Tooth Fairy?” 

“Well,” Tony cleared his throat, “The Tooth Fairy is a nice lady that comes by to collect baby teeth. In exchange for the teeth, she gives the kids money.” 

Morgan’s face scrunched up. “Like Santa… but with teeth?” 

“Exactly like Santa,” Tony nodded, hoping that she wouldn’t question anything else, “They’re friends, so Santa tells her which children are nice, and she gives them money as a prize.” 

“How will she know that I lost my tooth?” Morgan wondered, staring at it where it was laying flat on Peter’s palm.

When Tony turned to him helplessly, Peter joined the conversation, “You put it under your pillow, and it sends a signal to her bank. The same night you do that, she’ll take the tooth and give you your money for it.” 

“Oh,” Morgan blinked, then shrugged and pushed herself off of the floor, “Okay!” 

She scampered off into the living room, and the men stood up, letting out heavy sighs of relief. 

“I completely forgot that she’d start losing her baby teeth at some point,” Tony admitted, tossing the bitten apple into the trash. 

“How much money will you give her?” Peter asked, his curious eyes watching Tony lean against the counter across from him. 

“What’s the normal amount?” Tony ran a hand through his hair, mussing his uncombed hair into an even messier do.

Peter thought he looked adorable. 

“Like, five bucks,” Peter guessed, “I don’t really know. We didn’t do the whole Tooth Fairy thing when I was little.” 

“I don’t carry any bills below fifty,” Tony’s face pinched in annoyance, “I’m going to have to go withdraw a five from an ATM, or something. Do you mind watching her for me?” 

“That’s hilarious to imagine,” Peter snickered, “but also unnecessary. I can just give you some money.” 

Tony looked scandalized, “I can’t take your money.”

“Do you get how it feels now?” Peter crossed his arms, “It’s only a five, Tony. I won’t even notice it’s gone.” 

“Do  _ you _ get how it feels now?” Tony countered, amused despite himself at the situation they found themselves in, “Alright, I’ll take it, but I’ll make it up to you.” 

Peter rolled his eyes. “There’s nothing to make up for, it’s fine.” 

Before Tony could say anything in response, Morgan came in to make them join her in the living room, claiming that watching cartoons alone was boring. They all found their respective spots on the sofas and armchairs, and succumbed to the mind-numbing episodes of Spongebob flashing across the tv screen.


	3. Chapter 3

“Pete, we’re leaving in ten minutes,” Tony called from Morgan’s bedroom, “I just need to finish doing her hair.” 

Peter left his room and entered Morgan’s, leaning against the wall and watching Tony fumble with her ponytail. He was a lot better at styling her hair than he had been when she’d first started growing it. He was nothing if not determined to give her pretty hairstyles and do them right, especially now that Pepper was out of the picture and couldn’t do it. Peter had walked in on him watching DIY YouTube videos on how to best do hair numerous times, and it made him smile each time.

“You look great, Morgan,” Peter complimented, tucking his hands into the pockets of his pants as he waited. 

“Thanks,” Morgan bounced on her chair excitedly, stopping when it painfully pulled the hair still in Tony’s grasp. 

Tony looked away from his busy hands, which continued to work through Morgan’s tangles without his careful gaze, and playfully asked, “What, don’t I get a compliment too?”

He was dressed in simple jeans and a dark green sweatshirt. His matching sunglasses were already in place, and Peter could see a black hat behind him, waiting to be picked up. This was Tony’s attempt at going out incognito, and though it wasn’t the best, the outfit did look good on him. He looked comfortable and at ease -- exactly how Peter preferred him to be.

With too much honesty lacing his voice, he said, “You look amazing.” 

Tony’s hands faltered for the first time since Peter came in, stunned. He was more than used to being told he looked nice, but it was usually done in different circumstances. The compliments came raining down on him whenever he put on a suit and attended a formal event. They came when he was naked and flushed, panting and breathless next to the bedwarmer of the week, back in his old playboy days. They even came whenever he donned his Iron Man suit, eager fans and superheroes alike praising his genius and the sleek armor. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he was told he looked good in regular clothes. It was a nice feeling, though.

“Thank you,” Tony beamed. Then, just as honestly, “You look stunning, Mr. Parker.” 

Peter’s jaw dropped, but Tony was already turning back to Morgan, so all he said was, “Thank you, Mr. Stark.” 

When Tony finished getting Morgan ready, they all went down to the underground garage and got into a car of Morgan’s choosing. 

“Daddy, I don’t need a car seat anymore,” Morgan whined, pushing at Tony’s arms while he strapped her in. 

Tony’s response was a little impatient, telling Peter that they’d had this discussion one too many times, “You’re not tall enough to switch to a booster yet.”

“Yes, I am!” Morgan huffed, kicking the driver’s seat angrily.

Tony sent her a warning look, “Do not kick the seat.” 

Peter watched Morgan bitterly cross her arms and decided to distract her. “Are you excited for your first day in kindergarten?” 

That was what they were going out for. They needed to buy supplies for her before she started school for the very first time. Tony was also using this outing as an excuse to buy Peter some clothes and decorations for his room, but Peter decided to focus on the former and try to forget about the latter.

Morgan’s grumpy frown faded a little. “Yes!”

“I know I’m not,” Tony sighed, now seated in the driver’s seat and pulling out of the garage, “It feels like she’s leaving the nest already. Next thing I know, she’s graduating from high school and moving out.” 

Peter grabbed Tony’s right hand, which had previously been resting on the console between him and Peter. He rubbed it with gentle fingers, chipping away at his glum mood. Tony moved his hand so that he’d be holding Tony’s, rather than caressing it, and passed him an appreciative smile. 

“Why would I leave?” Morgan’s eyebrows furrowed, forgoing her anger in favor of sating her interest.

“Kids don’t live with their parents forever, sweetheart,” Tony informed her despondently, “They find their own houses and jobs when they become adults. Maybe even start their own families.”

Morgan’s eyes widened, “But I don’t wanna go.”

“I won’t make you,” Tony said quickly, wanting to avoid any possible meltdowns, “I would love it if you stayed with me, Morguna. You’re my baby.” 

Morgan didn’t correct him on the moniker this time. “Promise?” 

“Pinky promise.” Tony let go of Peter’s hand to reach back and twine his pinky finger with Morgan’s, holding it there until she let go. 

He only hesitated for a second before taking Peter’s hand again. He held it throughout the whole drive to the mall.

The mall was a little more crowded than usual. There were the usual tourists going from window to window, the groups of teens messing around in stores, and the small children running around. This time of year, though, there were also parents stalking from one store to the next in search of every supply their children needed for the upcoming school year. 

Tony would be one of them this year. 

“What’s the first thing on the list?” Peter asked, peeking over his shoulder to check himself. 

“Pencils,” Tony turned, making it easier for Peter to see the paper, “Then erasers, crayons, a backpack, a lunch box…”

“Do you want to split up? We’ll be done faster that way.” Peter suggested. 

“No,” Tony said at once, “Unless you want to…?”

Peter shrugged, satisfied with the answer, “I don’t exactly have anywhere to be. Let’s do it all together, then.” 

They were halfway through their list when they decided to take a break and have lunch. The food court was teeming with more people than the rest of the mall, the mouthwatering aroma and late hour of the day drawing everyone in. 

Peter and Morgan went to find an open table while Tony stood in line for their food. After finding one, they decided to play rock paper scissors while waiting for him to come back. 

They were in the middle of their fifth round when an elderly woman walked up to them, a map of the mall clutched in her wrinkled hands. 

“Would you mind pointing me in the direction of the bathrooms?” the woman asked Peter, sending Morgan a polite smile. 

“Of course,” Peter stood up and gestured to the right, “It’s to the right, and then you go straight until you reach the candy shop. The bathrooms are across from it.”

The woman patted his arm gratefully, “Thank you. Enjoy the rest of your day with your daughter.” 

She walked away before Peter could say anything, but he didn’t mind -- he had a feeling he wouldn’t have been able to, busy as he currently was with gaping at her retreating back. 

He wasn’t at all prepared for that last comment. He wondered, idly, what had caused her to assume he was Morgan’s father. He would’ve thought it more likely that people would think he was her brother, but he supposed he was starting to look mature enough that it was socially acceptable for him to be her father instead. 

Then he wondered how many people had seen him, Tony, and Morgan at the mall that day and automatically written them off as a family. Or, more specifically, written him and Tony off as Morgan’s parents. 

Peter sucked in a deep breath and sat back down. Morgan didn’t seem to have noticed the old woman’s comment; if she did, she didn’t look phased in the least.

“Daddy’s coming,” Morgan pointed at Tony, who was walking closer with two trays of food in hand, head swiveling in every possible direction in search of Peter and Morgan. 

“Over here!” Peter stood up and waved, catching Tony’s attention. 

Tony sat down next to Morgan and across from Peter, giving his daughter her Happy Meal and sliding Peter’s burger and fries to him. The group of three ate quickly, soothing the hunger that had been upsetting their stomachs. 

“Can we go home after this?” Morgan asked them both, “I’m tired.” 

“We still have the rest of the list to go through,” Tony reminded her. 

Peter finished chewing his burger and said, “It’s fine. We can get the rest online, if you want.” 

“I want to go home too,” Tony said tiredly, “Alright, we’ll get the rest online. That sound good to you, Morguna?” 

Morgan nodded, then jumped off of her chair to crawl into Tony’s lap, bringing her arms up and around his neck, “Can you carry me to the car, Daddy?” 

“I have to carry the bags,” Tony rubbed her back apologetically. 

Morgan sighed into the crook of his neck and slid off of him, undeterred. She went around the table and repeated the routine on Peter, who easily agreed to bring her to the car. 

They threw away their trash, returned their trays, and left. Tony walked next to Peter, who had Morgan clinging to his front, and glanced at the pair from time to time. They were whispering to each other about something -- probably making fun of Tony, who had spilled his coke all over his sweatshirt right before they got up from the table. 

Tony didn’t mind. He was just glad they got along as well as they did. 


	4. Chapter 4

“Do you have any plans for this weekend?” Tony asked, slowly sipping his coffee at the dining table. 

Across from him, Peter was munching on a granola bar. It was one of those crumbling ones, the kind that fell apart each time it was bitten, and Tony could tell by the crumbs on the table that it was happening to Peter. He made a mental note to blacklist the brand from the grocery list FRIDAY automatically compiled each week. 

“Not really,” Peter mumbled, his voice still low and raspy from sleep. 

Tony was having a hard time ignoring how attractive it sounded. Despite Peter’s clear tiredness, he had the urge to prod him into speaking more, just to hear the rough timbre. He knew he wouldn’t mind waking up to it every morning. 

It was a dangerous thought, so he pushed it away and continued their conversation. 

Tony cleared his throat, “Morgan’s spending this weekend with Pepper, so I thought we could do something together.”

“Like what?” Peter perked up. 

“Anything you want,” Tony gestured around the room, “We could have a lab day, or try out a new restaurant. We could have a movie marathon at home.”

“All of that sounds good to me,” Peter hummed, “How does the whole visitation thing work with you and Pepper, anyway?” 

“Pepper gets Morgan on weekends and the occasional Wednesday,” Tony said, not doing much to hide the disdain in his voice, “I get her the rest of the time.” 

“So, whenever Pepper is free on a Wednesday, Morgan spends the day with her.” Peter deduced, having been wondering what constituted an ‘occasional Wednesday’. 

“Yeah,” Tony pursed his lips, “I wish I could just cut ties with her, but I want Morgan to have both parents in her life.” 

“How has Morgan been dealing with the divorce?” Peter asked gently. 

Tony sighed, “She cried a lot, in the first couple of weeks. She was confused and upset. Thought she did something that made Mommy leave.” 

Peter dropped his gaze to the table, “How about now?” 

“She’s better,” Tony smiled slightly, “She’s happy, as far as I can tell. She still doesn’t understand the situation -- I don’t know if I’ll ever tell her why we split, but if I do, it’ll be when she’s older. Right now, in her eyes, her mom is an angel. I think it’s better to keep it that way.”

“And if she asks you directly?” Peter raised his eyebrows, not disapproving but curious, “What will you say?”

“Just that we didn’t love each other anymore,” Tony muttered, “I suppose it’s not exactly a lie. It’s just a half-truth.”

They stayed silent for a few minutes, letting the downcast mood settle in the room. The soft pitter patter of small feet cut through the tension, announcing the arrival of a certain little girl. Morgan joined them in the dining room, her hair plastered to her face and tangled beyond measure, making Tony release an annoyed groan. 

“Morning,” Morgan chirped, climbing onto the chair next to Peter. 

“Good morning, little miss,” Tony simpered, pushing her ready-made plate of cooling eggs closer to her.

“Good morning,” Peter ruffled her hair, inadvertently bunching it up further. 

“Look what the Tooth Fairy brought me!” Morgan shook her fist in the air, a five dollar bill crumpled in her grasp. 

“Wow,” Peter widened his eyes, praying he looked as surprised as he was supposed to be, “That’s a lot of money, Mo.” 

Tony nodded in agreement. “You’re probably the richest girl on Earth at the moment.” 

Peter took a moment to think that, though they were simply going along with Morgan’s excitement, Tony wasn’t wrong about her wealth. It was overwhelming for him to think too deeply on the fact that the five year old next to him would inherit billions and billions of dollars in the future -- so he didn’t. 

“What’ll you spend it on?” Peter peered down at the small girl. 

“Ice cream,” Morgan told him, “You can have some too, if you want.” 

“Thank you,” Peter said, pleased, “but I don’t really want any. I'll give it to your daddy, if that’s okay.” 

Tony nudged him with his foot, “Daddy’s been eating too unhealthily lately. You can have it all, Morguna. But in moderation.” 

“What does that mean?” Morgan sounded bewildered. 

“It means you can have a little bit each day, not all of it at once.” Tony clarified. 

“Oh, okay.” Morgan didn’t have a problem with that. The stomach ache she’d experienced the last time her dad let her overeat was strong enough to keep her from doing it again. 

“Can we go to the park today?” Morgan asked, hopeful eyes trained on her father, “They sell ice cream there.” 

“Sure,” Tony agreed, “Pete, you wanna come with?” 

Peter declined the invitation. “I’m going on patrol today.” 

A worried wrinkle formed on Tony’s forehead. “I don’t suppose I can convince you to skip it?” 

“No, sorry,” Peter chewed on the inside of his cheek. He hated worrying Tony, but it happened every time he went out as Spider-Man, so it was unavoidable. “I’ll be careful.” 

“You better be,” Tony narrowed his eyes.

“Can I come with you?” Morgan begged, “It’ll be really fun.” 

“No,” Tony said harshly.

He didn’t mean to sound so crude, but it slipped out anyway. He couldn’t imagine his daughter fighting in the alleys of New York City, nor did he want to. The day he allowed her to be put in danger would be the day he died. He would never let her be a superhero; those dreams would be crushed before they could even form. It may seem cruel, but if he could prevent Morgan from getting hurt, from getting nightmares, from getting PTSD and anxiety attacks, he absolutely would. He didn’t care how that made him look to others; until they experienced the severe, less talked about consequences of being a superhero, they could judge him all they wanted. 

Peter was quick to smooth over his answer. “You’re not old enough, Mo. And if I’m busy watching you, I can’t pay attention to the bad guys.” 

“Oh,” Morgan wilted, “But we can still go to the park, right, Daddy?”

“Definitely,” Tony nodded towards the door, “Go pick out your outfit while I do the dishes. We’ll leave after I brush your hair.” 

Morgan raced out of the room while Tony told Peter, “She’s been going through that independent phase where she wants to pick everything she wears herself.” 

“Sounds like you guys have a lot of fun around here,” Peter’s lips quirked as he stood up to throw away the wrappers from his granola bars.

“We do,” Tony placed a hand on his back, getting him to turn away from the trash can and face him, “Thanks for that save. I didn’t mean to sound so harsh.” 

“It’s okay, Tony,” Peter’s smile was understanding, “I wouldn’t want my kid to be a superhero either.” 

Tony nodded and stepped back, letting Peter brush past him, “Be safe.” 

“Aren’t I always?”


	5. Chapter 5

A few days later, Peter was getting Morgan ready for her sleepover at Pepper’s. Tony had stayed behind in the kitchen, doing the dishes and clearing the table, rushing because he’d woken up late and Pepper would be stopping by soon to pick up Morgan. Peter had offered to help Morgan get ready for him, and the look Tony gave him was filled with so much relief that Peter had almost felt the weight lifting off of Tony’s shoulders himself. 

“Do you and Pepper have any plans for this weekend?” Peter sat on the bed in front of Morgan as she pulled up her shorts.

It turned out that when Tony said she was going through an independent phase, he wasn’t kidding or exaggerating at all. She’d gotten upset when he started packing her bag, until he pointed out that she didn’t have time to do so herself. She grudgingly let him do it and got dressed, picking out a lime green tank top and neon orange shorts that clashed horribly. 

Peter didn’t say anything about it. He had a feeling it wouldn’t be appreciated. 

Instead, he focused on finding Morgan’s toothbrush, toothpaste, and hairbrush. He placed a spare pair of shoes in the bag and snuck in a change of clothes, the latter of which Morgan undoubtedly would’ve wanted to choose otherwise. He wasn’t sure what Morgan had at Pepper’s house. Maybe he’d packed all the wrong things, but he figured it was better to be safe than sorry. 

He looked around the room and noticed an open book on the nightstand. Morgan had been getting really into reading lately, according to Tony, so he placed the colorful, sticker-covered bookmark next to it inside and stuffed the book into the bag.

“Mommy said we’re going to go to a museum,” Morgan said matter-of-factly, “She says that they’re important for education and that understanding the past is necessary to understand the future.”

“She’s not wrong,” Peter glanced at her reflection in the mirror, “Did you understand what she meant by that?” 

“Duh,” Morgan scoffed, but the uncertain glint in her eyes told him otherwise. 

Peter sighed and zipped up the bag, holding out his hand for Morgan to clasp it and trudge to the living room, where Tony was waiting for them next to the elevator.

“I see we’re making a statement today,” Tony mused, eyeing Morgan’s peculiar outfit. 

“It’s a bold one, too,” Peter added.

“I see that,” Tony smiled, before sobering up and saying, “Pepper is on her way up.” 

Morgan bounded to the elevator doors, practically vibrating in anticipation. The doors slid open a minute later, revealing Pepper Potts, dressed in a pencil skirt and a casual blouse. Morgan ran forward and hugged her legs tightly. 

“Hi, Morgan,” Pepper said, placing a hand in her hair. She glared at Tony disapprovingly, “Why do you dress her like that? Are you trying to embarrass her?” 

Morgan pulled away from her, a frown fixed on her face. “I picked my clothes.” 

“Oh, honey,” Pepper flailed wordlessly; she glanced at Tony and Peter for help, but none came. 

“You don’t like it?” Morgan’s eyes watered.

“No, I do,” Pepper promised, “I just... wasn’t sure who created such a lovely outfit.” 

Behind Morgan’s back, Peter facepalmed. Tony glanced at him, as if asking if they were both witnessing the same slow train wreck of a conversation. 

“You said it was embarrassing,” Morgan scowled, rubbing at her cheeks with her small palms in hopes of getting rid of her tear tracks. 

Pepper floundered some more. “I was just playing a prank. You look great, Morgan.” 

Morgan didn’t seem to believe her, so Tony finally stepped into the argument, “Mommy doesn’t know what she’s talking about, Morguna. Look at what she’s wearing -- boring, business grown up clothes. She just doesn’t understand fashion.” 

Morgan digested his words for a few seconds before turning to Peter, and asking in a wavering voice, “Petey? Do you think I look bad?” 

“Of course not,” Peter knelt down til he was at her height, drawing her in for a comforting hug, “Do you think I would’ve let you go if you looked bad?” 

“No,” Morgan mumbled into his shoulder, “You always say I look nice.” 

“You do,” Peter confirmed, “How about you go to your room and see if there’s anything I forgot to pack for you?” 

Morgan nodded silently and left the room. 

“This is your fault,” Pepper hissed at Tony, “Why would you let her go out like that?” 

“It’s called letting your child express herself the way she wants to,” Tony bit back, “How will she grow as a person and figure herself out if she’s not allowed to?” 

“Yeah,” Peter said randomly, “I can see why your marriage failed.” 

Pepper looked offended, but Tony seemed like he was about to burst out in laughter at any moment, only holding it in to prevent another argument with Pepper. Before Pepper could say anything, though, Morgan came in with a purple stuffed elephant clutched to her chest.

“You forgot Alfred,” she told Peter, barreling back into his arms and refusing to look at Pepper. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Peter said ruefully, pulling away from the hug and nudging her towards her mother. 

Morgan reluctantly shuffled into the elevator with Pepper at her side, who was trying to place a sorry hand on her back, only for it to be shrugged off. 

“Bye, Daddy,” Morgan said forlornly, “Bye, Petey.” 

The two waved their goodbyes, then watched Pepper clear her throat and say, “I’ll have her back early on Monday morning, before I head to the office.” 

The elevator doors slid shut, and they were gone. Tony blew out a long breath and leaned slightly into Peter’s side

“That wasn’t the best way to start off the weekend, huh?” Tony asked rhetorically. 

Peter rubbed his arm, “She’ll be okay.” 

“I know,” Tony pulled away unwillingly, “I just hope this didn’t give her any insecurities.” 

“Pepper was out of line for that,” Peter muttered angrily, “Even if it had been you who chose her outfit, she shouldn’t have said anything with her in the room.” 

“Nothing we can do about it now,” Tony crossed his arms, “How about we go start off our weekend? I know it’ll help get our minds off of this.” 

“Sounds great,” Peter smiled.

They turned on the TV and settled on the same couch, multiple soft blankets strewn around and on them. Tony chucked a pillow at Peter’s face, which he rolled his eyes at and accepted, propping it under his head. The coffee table in front of them was already set up with snacks, bowls of M&M’s -- Peter’s favorite -- put closer to Peter, and bags of popcorn popped open for Tony. 

Halfway through _Back to the Future_ , Peter slid his M&M’s closer to the other man. “You should try combining it with your popcorn.” 

“I’m not a sweet and salty kind of guy, Pete.” Tony pushed them back. 

“Okay,” Peter said doubtfully, “Then I’m stealing your popcorn and eating it with my chocolate.” 

Tony leaned back smugly, “Go ahead. I need to go easy on my arteries.” 

“Oh, fuck you,” Peter threw an M&M at him. 

“Not if I fuck you first,” Tony said easily, and froze. 

They looked at each awkwardly and turned back to the movie. Tony cursed at himself inwardly. Hopefully, he wouldn't make tomorrow’s outing as uncomfortable as this.


	6. Chapter 6

“Why do I need to dress warm?” Peter stared at Tony suspiciously, ‘You’re not, like, flying me to the Arctic Tundra or something, are you?” 

Tony raised his eyebrows, “I can, if you’d like me to.” 

“No, I’m good,” Peter tugged his shoes onto his feet, lacing them with nimble fingers and standing up when he was done, “But really, why do I need to dress warm?” 

“Because you can’t thermoregulate,” Tony grinned, then, “And because I’m taking you to an ice skating rink.”

Peter instantly grabbed his hand and started dragging him to the elevator, suspicion gone and replaced with delight. 

“Woah, slow down there, Underoos,” Tony stumbled over his feet, laughing at the puppy-like excitement radiating off of the younger man. 

“I can’t believe we’re going ice skating!” Peter exclaimed, pressing the button for the underground garage five times in quick succession. 

Tony took both of his hands before he could press the button again, half-afraid that he’d break it in his eagerness. He cradled them in his own, gentle and almost… _ tender.  _ The expression on his face stole Peter’s breath away, distracting him from his excitement and occupying his mind with trying to figure out what Tony was thinking, instead. 

“So, it was a good idea?” Tony finally murmured, breaching the silence. 

For a moment, Peter had no idea what he was talking about, but it all came rushing back within a few seconds. “It was. I haven’t gone skating in years; I stopped going when my uncle died.” 

“I’m glad I went with this, then,” Tony ducked his head, smiling. 

Peter thought he’d never seen Tony look so shy. It was a new look for him, and one that Peter thoroughly enjoyed. It was such a stark contrast to his usual easygoing confidence; it felt like Peter was seeing an entirely new side to him. 

“Shall we?” Peter asked, jokingly sticking out his arm. 

Tony grabbed it anyway, “We shall.”

The ice rink was big and deserted, the cool air causing small tingles to rise on Peter’s arms. It rapidly became evident to Peter that Tony had rented out the rink; there was no one there, other than the employee that handed them their skates, but she left soon after doing so. Peter wasn’t sure about the legality of her disappearance, but Tony assured him that everything was fine. 

“Do you know how to skate?” Peter asked Tony, gliding backwards and facing him at the same time. 

Tony scoffed, “Do you know who you’re speaking to? Of course I do.” 

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not,” Peter admitted. 

Tony rolled his eyes and sped past him, doing an elegant waltz jump and skating around the rink until he was back in his original position. 

“Are you surprised?” Tony wondered, joining him in moving backwards, his feet moving in swift strokes along the ice. 

“I’m not surprised that you can do it,” Peter clarified, “I’m surprised that you had the time to learn. It feels like your entire life was just you working the moment you came out of the womb.” 

“You can thank dear old Dad for that one,” Tony said sarcastically, “But learning to ice skate was one of the things he had me do. It was something the elite were meant to be good at, apparently.” 

“If it makes you feel better, you looked pretty cool doing that,” Peter complimented. 

Tony winked at him, “If I have the approval of  _ the _ Peter Parker, everything I had to do to earn it was worth it.” 

“You always had my approval,” Peter said sincerely, “You had it before I even met you.” 

Tony looked like he didn’t know what to say to that, and Peter could tell his words had affected him. Something heavy settled in his eyes, and yet, his body seemed more loose, more relaxed. It was quite the juxtaposition, but Peter had resolved to never fully understand Tony a long time ago. It didn’t mean he wouldn’t try, though.

“Thanks, Pete,” Tony said quietly, “That means a lot.”

They had stopped moving a while ago, but Peter only noticed it now, with Tony standing just a couple of feet away and looking more vulnerable than he’d ever allowed himself to look in front of Peter. A wave of want washed over him, but he forced it down, knew this wasn’t the right time for it. 

He settled for a small kiss on the cheek. He only lingered for a second, letting his lips luxuriate in feeling the warm skin of a person he might never get to have. He drew away, and immediately his lips felt naked and cold; colder than they’d ever felt before. 

Tony was blinking at him in surprise and consideration, but he ignored it and started skating again, jeering over his shoulder that he bet he could do more laps than Tony. 

It spurred on a mini-competition, and the kiss was seemingly forgotten, except here Tony was hours later, sitting in front of his fireplace and playing it in his head on a loop. 

He wanted more. He wanted Peter to kiss him again, just a little to the left, until he reached his mouth with delicate care. If not that -- or even more than that, but he wouldn’t let his mind wander in that direction just yet -- he would settle for another kiss on the cheek. The innocent act had sent the butterflies resting in his stomach into a flurry, and he knew that would happen every single time, if another time came at all. 

It wasn’t a startling thought, and Tony didn’t waste his time pondering why. He had noticed Peter a while ago, had seen him in an entirely new light, and it didn’t bother him as much as it probably should. Peter was no longer the 14 year old kid he’d taken to Germany. He was nearing 21 and was about to start his senior year in Columbia. He was an adult and perfectly capable of making decisions, so Tony wasn’t going to worry too much about the whole situation. 

Now that he was thinking about Peter’s 21st birthday, though, he realized that he didn’t have any plans for it. He wasn’t sure if Peter would want to spend it with him -- typically, people went straight for the bar when they turned 21, dragging their friends along with them. Tony didn’t want to intrude on that, nor did he want to take Morgan to a bar. 

He was going to make separate plans for the three of them, then. Peter would just have to deal with it. There was no way Tony was going to miss out on celebrating the day his man came into existence. 


	7. Chapter 7

Tony woke up earlier than usual to get dressed and take Morgan back from Pepper. The two had arrived earlier than Tony was told they would, but that was fine. He would rather have his daughter with him sooner than later, but he still wondered if Pepper did it to be petty and catch him off guard. 

“Did you have fun?” Tony smiled down at his daughter, who was rubbing her eyes wearily, unaccustomed to being awake at such an early hour. 

Morgan nodded dumbly. She didn’t seem willing to talk just yet, but Tony understood that more than anyone. He himself could barely function without getting some coffee in him first, but Morgan couldn’t have caffeine, so he found a different solution. 

“You want a smoothie, princess?” Tony opened the fridge and started pulling out a variety of fruits and berries, letting Morgan sort out which ones she wanted in her drink. 

He had everything he needed placed in the blender within seconds, and soon it was whirring away loudly. He poured the finished product into a plastic cup and handed it to Morgan, who plopped onto the couch in the living room to leisurely gulp it down. 

“Where is Petey?” Morgan finally spoke up, staring at the entrance to the living room as if the aforementioned man would materialize in it at any moment. 

“He’s sleeping,” Tony answered, following her gaze despite knowing better, “It’s still early, so let him sleep, okay?” 

Morgan nodded, looking disappointed. “What did you do when I was with Mommy?”

“We watched some movies and went ice skating,” Tony recalled cheerfully. 

“I wanna go ice skating!” Morgan’s eyes widened, “Can I go, Daddy?” 

“You can come with us next time we go,” Tony promised. 

“Okay!” Morgan bounced on the sofa cushion. Tony placed a calming hand on her shoulder, reminding her to keep quiet, lest she wakes Peter with her noise.

“Peter’s birthday is coming up,” Tony informed her, once she stopped moving, “What do you think we should do to celebrate?”

“Um,” Morgan furrowed her eyebrows, “Maybe we can have a tea party.” 

“Maybe something more grown up,” Tony hedged.

Morgan started rambling, “We can go to a restaurant, or have a party, or go to the park, or go to the toy store, or…” 

Tony let her chatter until she mentioned something that caught his attention. “Bowling is a good idea, Morguna.” 

She stopped talking then, looking elated and close to starting up her bouncing again.

“You can’t tell him, though, okay?” Tony cautioned, “It’s a surprise.”

Morgan nodded briskly and jumped off of the couch, racing out of the living room and heading straight for Peter’s bedroom. Tony followed her hurriedly, praying to a god he didn’t believe in that she wouldn’t spoil the surprise, and was simply too excited after their conversation to wait for Peter to wake up.

She pushed open the door and tackled Peter, who was curled up under his blankets with a pillow clutched to his chest. He was shirtless, and Tony stopped his chase, staring voicelessly at the way his arms flexed when he clutched the pillow tighter. He stamped down the pathetic need to switch places with the pillow, perching on the edge of the bed to watch Morgan shake Peter out of his sleep. 

“What?” Peter slurred, eyes still glued shut, and yep -- there were those butterflies again. 

Tony would  _ never _ get tired of hearing that gravelly voice in the mornings.

“I’m home,” Morgan pushed the pillow out of the way and took its place, snuggling into Peter’s chest. 

Tony couldn’t believe he was feeling jealous of his five year old daughter. That was new, but, well -- the sight was also precious enough that he didn’t care to linger on his envy. 

Peter peeked at the girl in his arms. “Hi, Mo. How was your weekend?”

“It was good,” Morgan twisted her head to look at her father, “Daddy, join us! We’re having a cuddle party.” 

“Is that what this is?” Peter huffed in amusement, shuffling back a few inches to make some space for Tony on Morgan’s other side. 

“Uh huh,” Morgan nodded, her hair tickling his chin. 

When she sent him an impatient look, Tony slipped under the blanket and joined them, staring at Peter over her head as if to say,  _ Kids, man. _

Peter didn’t seem to mind though, pulling his right arm over Morgan and extending it so that his hand would rest on Tony’s hip. Tony’s heart stuttered in his chest at the contact, and he inched closer, doing the same to Peter and trapping Morgan between them in the process.

Morgan wiggled in her spot happily. “Can we cuddle all day?”

“However long you want, sweetheart,” Tony coughed, overwhelmed and taken aback at how domestic the scene was, and how content he felt knowing it. 

No matter how long all three participants may have wanted to cuddle for, though, they had to break apart eventually. Peter got up to hop into the shower, and Tony went to unpack Morgan’s bag and put everything in its place, while Morgan occupied herself with some toy trains. 

They were finishing their breakfast when Peter said, “We should go to the park today.” 

Since they had no other plans, Tony agreed and went to get himself and Morgan ready while Peter changed his clothes. An hour later, they were walking on the wet grass of a big park, looking for a bench or table to sit at. When they found an empty table close enough to the playground that they could keep an eye on Morgan, Tony and Peter sat down and let the young girl dash to the swings. 

“When does your first semester start?” Tony twiddled with a piece of grass absentmindedly, “It’s your last year -- that’s pretty exciting.” 

“It is,” Peter hummed, “It starts a couple of weeks after my birthday.” 

“...which is right around the corner,” Tony grinned from ear to ear, “You have any plans, birthday boy?” 

Peter sighed, looking half-agitated and half-fond, “MJ and Ned are making me go to a strip club with them.”

“Oh?” Tony asked flatly, “Strippers and alcohol. What’s not to love?”

Peter glanced at him at the odd tone of his voice, concerned. “You okay?” 

“Never better,” Tony sent him a strained smile, “Just, uh, be careful. Use protection if you bring anyone home. 

“I wouldn't bring--” Peter started saying, eyebrows furrowed.

“Anyone since Morgan will be home,” Tony cut him off, “You’re right. Maybe go to a hotel instead.”

“That’s not what I was going to--” Peter tried again. 

“Morgan and I have our own thing planned for you,” Tony rushed to say, “No strippers there, though, sorry.” 

Peter gave up. “Okay, thanks. I’m looking forward to it.” 

They didn’t speak much after that.


	8. Chapter 8

In the days leading up to Peter’s birthday, Tony’s conversations with him were stilted, with only Morgan to act as a buffer. Tony knew he had no right to feel so upset; it wasn’t like he and Peter were dating, or anything. If Peter wanted to see some strippers for his birthday, who was Tony to hold him back? 

It didn’t matter that Tony didn’t want him seeing other people’s naked -- or nearly naked -- bodies. It didn’t matter that he might be getting lap dances without Tony’s knowledge, or even having a one night stand. Above all, it absolutely did not matter that his feelings for Peter had long since gone past lust. Or that Peter didn’t seem to feel the same way. 

None of that stopped him from feeling bothered about the situation. Maybe even jealous, but he refused to dwell on that particular thought. Why was it that those strippers got to bathe in Peter’s appreciative stare? Why couldn’t Tony be the one Peter might take to bed that night? He would’ve been satisfied with just the night if a future with Peter wasn’t plausible. 

He’d treated Peter and Morgan to a day out in a bowling alley to celebrate Peter’s birthday, as promised. He’d managed to snag Peter for it on the same day as his actual birthday, since the strip club wouldn’t open until late in the evening. Tony’d ignored the reason behind it and driven them all to the alley, where Morgan proceeded to have the time of her short life. 

“It’s just math,” Tony snarked, when an employee offered to put up the bumper walls after his third time missing all of the pins, “I can work out the angles.” 

“Bumpers are fun,” Morgan told the employee seriously, “I want them.” 

When the employee saw that Tony was busy muttering to himself about the proper way to throw the bowling ball in his hands, she turned to Peter. “Can I put them up for her, sir?” 

“Yeah, thank you,” Peter smiled when Morgan cheered and threw her arms around his waist, grunting a little at the tightness of the hug. 

Morgan tossed the balls so that they would ricochet off of the bumper walls; not so that they would knock down the pins at the end of the lane. It made Tony facepalm lightheartedly, so she kept doing it until they left. 

He’d been getting her ready for bed when Peter left to meet his friends, and his mood had soured as soon as the elevator doors slid shut. 

“Where is Peter going, Daddy?” Morgan questioned, oblivious to her dad’s bitterness.

“He’s out with his friends,” Tony told her, face pinched, “Having fun without us, I bet.”

Several hours later, it was nearing 1 am and Tony was sitting up in his bed with a tablet, looking over his designs for the new Stark Phone. He hadn’t been able to sleep, mind running rampant with what Peter might be doing at the moment. He wondered how many of the strippers had caught his attention; or maybe another club goer had, and they were dancing together, grinding against each other and making out. Maybe Peter had already left the club and was on his way to a hotel, hands roving over the stranger he was bringing with him. Maybe he’d reached the hotel a while ago and was having sex while Tony sat here on his own, wishing it was him in that stranger’s place. 

Tony tossed the tablet away angrily. There was no way he was going to sleep when he was so distracted with things he didn’t want to think about. Luckily for him, a distraction came in the form of a tentative knock on his door. 

He stood up and opened the door, revealing Morgan with her eyes tiredly scrunched shut and her arms already up, signaling that she wanted to be carried to Tony’s bed. 

“Can’t sleep, baby?” Tony whispered, setting her down under the blankets and joining her in bed. 

Morgan blinked at him drowsily, and slurred, “When is Papa coming home?” 

Tony stilled. “Who?” 

“Papa,” Morgan mumbled again, “He’s not back yet.” 

Tony’s heart swelled warmly, before reality came creeping back in. Even if Morgan saw Peter as her papa, he wouldn’t actually be that for her. Tony didn’t know if he’d want to be; he was still young, after all. Would he want to be saddled with a kid? Besides all of that, he and Peter weren’t in a relationship, so it wouldn’t make much sense for him to want or agree to that. 

He couldn’t tell that to Morgan, though. Not when she was blinking at him slowly, incoherent in her sleepiness. She wouldn’t understand -- not now. That conversation would have to wait for the morning.

“Papa will be home soon, Morgan,” Tony said gently. 

He trembled slightly at his own words as Morgan nodded contentedly and drifted off. That sentence was sweeter than any he’d ever said. He wanted, desperately, so badly that it hurt, to be able to say things just like it. To have Morgan call Peter “Papa” and have it be true. 

He needed to talk to Peter, and he needed to do it soon. Preferably before Morgan called him “Papa” to his face and sent him running for the hills. 

In the morning, Peter was sitting at the kitchen table when Tony and Morgan came in. He was methodically stirring his tea, blank face focused on the wall in front of him, and lost in his thoughts. He didn’t seem to notice their presence; not until Morgan ran forward and tackled him, anyway. 

“Petey!” she cried out, hiding her face in his shoulder, “Please don’t go anymore. I missed you.” 

Tony privately agreed, but he stayed silent and let them have their moment. 

Peter rubbed her back reposefully. “I’m not going anywhere, Mo. I didn’t even have fun. Bowling with you was so much better.” 

Tony carefully searched his face for any signs of falsehood. He wouldn’t have blamed him for lying to Morgan. Obviously, he would have to leave again at some point, but he seemed to be completely truthful; while he looked happy to see Morgan, there were traces of previous misery in his furrowed brow and set jaw. 

Morgan pressed her smile into his shirt. “Yay. Daddy missed you, too, so you should never ever leave again.” 

“Oh, did he?” Peter glanced at Tony briefly, before returning his attention to the five year old in his lap.

Morgan nodded solemnly. “He was very grumpy, Petey.”

Tony’s jaw dropped. Well, then. It turned out that people weren’t lying when they said it was your own children that exposed you in the worst of ways.

Peter didn’t laugh at him, though. He just smiled quietly and said, “I missed you both, too.”


	9. Chapter 9

Because Tony had the worst luck out of anyone he knew, the day he needed to have serious conversations with both Peter and Morgan was the day he had to head to the office. That left Peter to watch over Morgan without him until Tony came home, giving Morgan plenty of opportunities to have “Papa” slip out of her mouth. Tony hoped that he wouldn’t come home to packed bags and a teary-eyed daughter. 

Much to his immense relief, Peter and Morgan were building LEGOs on the floor when he got back from Stark Industries. They were halfway through with building a rainbow-colored castle when they looked up at his arrival. 

Morgan got up and skittered towards him, hugging his legs, “Hi, Daddy.”

“Hi, Morgan,” Tony ruffled her hair, “Were you good for Peter?” 

When Morgan nodded, he glanced at Peter for confirmation, who said, “She was great. We had lunch, watched some TV, and decided to wait until you came home to have dinner, so we’ve been building LEGOs ever since.” 

“Thanks for watching her for me,” Tony set his briefcase down and started slipping off his shoes, “What’s for dinner?” 

“You don’t have to thank me,” Peter waved him off, “We ordered in Chinese. Morgan said that it was gross, but she’s never had it so she promised to at least try it.” 

“Good luck with that,” Tony snorted, “She’s a very picky eater.” 

They took their places at the dining table and portioned out the food, the now open containers of takeout spilling out a mouthwatering aroma that had their stomachs rumbling. Peter made sure to put a variety of food items on Morgan’s plate, getting her to take a bite out of everything and tell him what she thought of it. 

Throughout the dinner, Morgan would go from staring at Tony to staring at Peter. She looked contemplative, and then in a flash her gaze turned upset. She pushed away her plate of food and studied her sock-clad feet with sad eyes, avoiding looking at the men from then on. 

Tony and Peter exchanged concerned looks, before the latter urged the former to speak. 

“Is something wrong, honey?” Tony asked, setting his chopsticks on the table to focus on his downcast daughter.

When Morgan shrugged, Peter inched closer and placed a hand on her shoulder. “If you’re feeling sad, we’d like to know about it so we can help you feel better. Is that okay?” 

Morgan sighed with more heaviness than a five year old should possess, and nodded. She finally lifted her head to look at her father, and quietly asked, “Do you and Papa not love each other anymore?” 

Tony froze at the question, icy panic rushing through his veins. Through the corner of his eye, he saw Peter’s face twist in confusion. 

“What do you mean?” Tony barely choked out through the tightening of his throat. 

“On the TV, they said that parents that love each other sleep in the same bed, but you have different rooms,” Morgan pointed out, bottom lip starting to wobble, “I don’t want Papa to leave like Mommy did.” 

“Wait, I’m Papa?” Peter asked, disbelief painting every inch of his face. 

“She thinks of you that way,” Tony told him quickly, keeping his eyes trained on Morgan so that he wouldn’t have to see his reaction to the words, “Morgan, this is a complicated situation. Not all parents sleep in the same room; that doesn’t mean that they don’t love each other, but Peter and I aren’t…” 

Tony couldn’t finish that sentence. It hurt too much to even think it, so he fell silent and let Morgan come to her own conclusions. 

“Mo,” Peter said delicately, understanding the situation now, “I’m not one of your parents.” 

Morga’s face screwed up as tears started building in her eyes, “Yes, you are!” 

“Look, sweetheart,” Tony abandoned his seat to kneel next to Morgan’s, “No matter how much we might want him to be your papa, if Peter doesn’t want that, you can’t call him that.” 

Morgan glared at him through her tears and jumped off of her chair, storming out of the dining room and to her bedroom. 

“You said ‘we’,” Peter said dumbly. 

“What?” Tony reluctantly faced him, “What are you talking about?” 

Peter’s eyes were wide. “You said ‘no matter how much we might want him to be’. As in, you do too.” 

Tony wished he could leave the room like Morgan did. He felt hot; like the walls were closing in on him and he had to get out of there as soon as possible, but he’d known that this conversation would be coming, and had even wanted to be the one to initiate it. So, he pushed through. 

“I did say that,” Tony admitted in a whisper. 

Peter’s super hearing picked up on it. “Why?” 

“I’m in love with you,” Tony responded in a rush. He couldn’t hold it in for any longer; he felt ready to throw up at any moment. He had to say it, even if the idea of being rejected by Peter had him feeling worse. 

“You’re in love with me,” Peter repeated, suddenly glad that he was still seated, because a wave of dizziness crashed over him right after.

Tony nodded silently, fear sinking in his gut. 

“I’m in love with you too,” Peter said, feeling nervous despite knowing that his feelings were reciprocated. 

“Oh,” Tony blinked, “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Yeah,” Peter bit his lip anxiously, “Neither was I.” 

They stayed silent for a few minutes, stewing in the awkward tension, before Peter stood from his chair and walked over to Tony. Tony didn’t let either of them hesitate for long; he pulled Peter closer and bent his head until their mouths collided in a soft kiss. They didn’t let themselves get carried away, conscious of the little girl that was just a few rooms away. 

“Wait, wait,” Peter pushed him away, panting slightly, “I feel like we should talk about this ‘papa’ thing.” 

“Right, yeah,” Tony grimaced, “Don’t feel bad about that, Pete. I mean, we only just kissed for the first time. You don’t have to parent her.”

“What if I want to parent her?” Peter challenged. 

Tony reeled back in surprise. “Then you have to commit -- to her and to me. I love you, but she’s my daughter. I can’t let her get used to seeing you as her father if you’re going to decide you don’t want to do this anymore right after. It’ll hurt her.” 

“I know,” Peter gentled his expression, “I want this, Tony.” 

Tony didn’t let himself get too happy just yet. “And, since we’re getting everything out in the open, I want to clarify that this is not an open relationship.” 

“I don’t want it to be an open relationship,” Peter nodded in agreement, “Anything else?” 

Tony hesitated. “You don’t have to answer, but… what did you do when you went to that strip club?”

“Nothing,” Peter said honestly, “I find out that it’s not my kind of scene.” 

“Okay,” Tony tried not to let his relief show, but Peter spotted it anyway and grinned wickedly. 

“Why, were you jealous?” he teased.

Tony scowled, “Do you blame me? Here I am, wishing you were a family man -- my family man, in case that wasn’t clear enough -- and you were going to a strip club. And I didn’t want you to sleep with anyone other than me.” 

“Is that why you’ve been acting so weird lately?” Peter asked, genuinely surprised. 

Tony looked uncomfortable. “Hey, I feel like we’ve left Morgan alone for long enough. We should go talk to her.” 

“I know you’re changing the subject,” Peter narrowed his eyes, “but we do need to talk to her, so whatever.” 

Peter didn’t seem to be upset, though, because he grabbed Tony’s hand as they walked side by side to Morgan’s room. 

Tony knocked on her door, “Hey, sweetheart. Can we come in?” 

Morgan croaked in a small voice, “Yes.” 

Tony turned the handle of the door and entered the room first, tugging Peter along behind him. Morgan was laying on her bed with her face pushed into one of her pillows, sniffling softly. The men sat down next to her, resting their linked hands on her back to soothe her.

“Hi, Mo,” Peter brushed her hair back, revealing her flushed face, “We have something to tell you.” 

Morgan sat up with Tony’s help, shuffling forward until she was sitting in between them. She gripped Peter’s sleeve tightly in her left hand, as if to stop him from leaving her and Tony. 

“We wanted to tell you that you were right,” Tony informed her, “Peter is your papa. We were just being silly and didn’t realize it; you’re so much smarter than us, Morguna.” 

Morgan’s eyes lit up. “So, you still love each other? You’re gonna sleep in the same room?” 

“That’s up to Peter,” Tony barely stopped himself from agreeing with her, “Remember, I said not all parents sleep together.” 

“Why not?” Morgan frowned. 

“Some people like to have their own space,” Tony said, “And that’s okay.” 

“Oh, okay,” Morgan nodded, then turning to her left and throwing herself at Peter, “You’re not leaving? And I can call you ‘Papa’?”

“I’m not leaving,” Peter confirmed, before continuing with a suspiciously wobbly voice, “And I would love it if you called me ‘Papa’.”


	10. Chapter 10

They settled into a comfortable routine. Peter started sleeping in Tony’s room, much to the delight of both Morgan and Tony. He couldn’t tell which one of the Starks was happier about that, which amused him to no end. The last couple of weeks before Morgan’s first day of school went by fast, and soon they were parked in front of her elementary school.

“Wait, I’m confused,” Peter said before anyone could get out of the car, “If this is Morgan’s first time ever going to school, what was that showcase we went to for?”

“That was her daycare,” Tony explained, “I would drop her off there before going to work. They had a mini art showcase for all the kids.”

Peter rubbed his hands excitedly, “And now we’re dropping her off at school.”

“Yeah, we are,” Tony sighed, eyeing the school with distrust, “I should get them some better security.”

“She’ll be fine,” Peter assured him, before turning to the backseat, “Right, Morgan?”

Morgan nodded, already trying to unbuckle her car seat. “Yeah, Daddy, I’ll be fine.”

“If anything bad happens I want you to tell me,” Tony told her firmly, “Papa and I are the only ones that will be picking you up. On Wednesdays, it will be Mommy. Don’t get in anyone else’s cars if we’re not here yet; just go back in and wait with your teacher.”

“I know, Daddy,” Morgan said impatiently, watching the other kids go inside the school with longing eyes.

Peter muffled his laughter in the collar of his shirt, knowing that Tony wouldn’t appreciate his mirthfulness right now. He stepped out of the car and opened the door Morgan was sitting next to, undoing her seatbelt and helping her hop out. Tony turned off the ignition and got out of the car too, locking it as they started walking to the school.

Morgan grabbed their hands in hers, her excited expression melting into one of fear as they approached the building.

Tony noticed it immediately. “It’ll be just like daycare, honey. Don’t worry. If you need me to come get you, tell your teacher and I’ll do it, okay? Iron Man to the rescue.”

“Iron Man to the rescue,” Morgan repeated, her grip on their hands tightening, “What if you’re busy?”

“I’m never too busy to take care of my baby,” Tony reprimanded lightheartedly, “But if I am, you have Papa to come get you. And if Papa can’t, Mommy can. If she can’t, Uncle Rhodey can. There will always be someone who will come for you. I promise.”

Morgan looked a lot more reassured now. She took a deep breath and relaxed her hold on her fathers, leading them to the entrance of the school. A woman with a clipboard asked for Morgan’s name and directed them to her classroom, which was already halfway full when they found it.

The teacher was standing in the doorway and greeting the parents and children coming into her class.

She crouched down to be at eye level with Morgan and asked, “What’s your name, little miss? And who did you bring with you today?”

‘I’m Morgan,” the little girl said shyly, “This is Papa and that’s Daddy. They said that they’re in love so now Papa is staying with us forever.”

“That’s amazing, Morgan. I’m Ms. Macy,” the teacher introduced herself and stood up to face the parents, “We’re going to have a lot of fun here. Don’t worry about her.”

“She has a tendency to overshare,” Tony said apologetically, “And I’m afraid I’m going to worry no matter what.”

“All little kids do it,” Ms. Macy waved his apologies away, “They don’t have a filter.”

Tony laughed in agreement and followed her to her desk, which had stacks of papers on it. She handed him one of the packets and started telling him about the activities they’d be doing that year, as well as any possible field trips they would be going on. Peter tuned them out and herded Morgan to the desk labeled with her name, nostalgia flooding his brain as he took in the childish decorations in the classroom.

Morgan tugged on his pants, bringing his attention back to her.

“I’m kind of scared, Papa,” she admitted, looking a little overwhelmed.

Peter sat on her small chair and pulled her onto his lap, letting her hide her face in his neck. He waited for a few seconds to let her calm down before saying, “Don’t be scared, Mo. Everything will go great. When I started kindergarten, I cried a lot ‘cause it was my first time being away from my uncle and aunt. I was in a classroom with a bunch of strangers, and I thought that I’d be scared for the rest of the year. But I stopped being scared about forty minutes after school started. You wanna guess why?”

“Why?” Morgan asked curiously, her small lips brushing against his skin.

“I met my best friend, Ned,” Peter grinned, “And now we’re boring grown ups and still best friends.”

Morgan pulled her head away but kept her arms around him, looking uncertain, “You think I’ll make friends?”

“Of course,” Peter said confidently, “Who wouldn’t want to be friends with the amazing Morgan Stark?”

Morgan giggled and slid off of his lap, staying close by but looking a lot more confident. Suddenly, a bell rang over their heads, startling some of the children who had never heard one ring before. Peter’s sensitive hearing did not do him any favors in high school, nor did it help him now. He winced along with the kids, rubbing his ears harshly.

“Alright, everyone, say bye to your parents,” the teacher instructed, “They’ll be back to pick you up at 3.”

It only seemed to sink in for some of the children that they’d be separated from their parents at that moment. A couple of them burst into tears, setting off a chain reaction and causing others to join them in their crying. Peter glanced at Morgan, whose confidence seemed to be going down again at the reactions of her peers.

“If you need to be picked up early, I’ll pick you up, remember?” Peter checked, “Or Daddy will.”

Tony joined them at Morgan’s desk, checking the girl’s face for any signs that she was upset. Relieved to find none, he kissed Peter’s cheek in thanks, having watched him calm their daughter while speaking to the teacher.

“We’re leaving now, Morguna,” Tony pulled her into his arms, “Have a good day, honey. Love you.”

“Bye, Daddy,” Morgan sighed sadly, pulling away from his arms to go into Peter’s, “Bye, Papa.”

After giving her one last hug, they left the school and started driving to Columbia University. Tony called Happy to tell him to get a discreet security detail for the school; once he finished speaking to him, he turned to Peter.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving me, too,” Tony pouted, “How am I supposed to cope with both of my babies gone?”

“You won’t have to, because you’re officially going back to work today,” Peter threaded their fingers together in a light grasp, “Summer’s over.”

“Don’t remind me,” Tony groaned, before hesitantly saying, “Just a heads up -- I might not always make it home for dinner. My hours are unpredictable, so don’t get upset if I get home really late. Please.”

Peter gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “I’m not always going to be home for all of our meals. I have morning, afternoon, and night classes. Just try to be home when I’m not so that Morgan’s not alone.”

“Yeah, I can do that,” Tony breathed out, relieved, “I’ve thought about getting her a babysitter, but there’s always a chance that they’ll hurt her for being my daughter. I can’t risk that.”

“I get that,” Peter said darkly, “Not all babysitters are good people.”

Tony’s eyebrows furrowed at his tone, but he didn’t ask any questions. There were better times to have serious conversations than when driving to a first day back on a college campus. When they arrived at Columbia, Tony pulled Peter into a fierce kiss, stopping him from exiting the car.

Tony pulled away from him breathlessly, “Have a good day, sweetheart. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Peter blew him a kiss as he clambered out, “Have a good day at work.”

“I won’t!” Tony called after his retreating figure.

The sound of Peter’s laughter played in his head, over and over, until he came home to hear it in person again.


	11. Chapter 11

Morgan had mixed feelings about school. She wasn’t used to obeying anyone other than her parents, but she learned very quickly that teachers were meant to be listened to. One humiliating time out in the corner of the classroom was all it took for the lesson to sink in. That didn’t mean she liked it; though Peter was a relatively carefree father, she was still adjusting to having him as an authority figure in her life. Now she had a teacher trying to do almost the same thing.

The difference was that she loved Peter and had practically begged him to join the group of adults that could boss her around. Her teacher’s power was largely unwelcome in comparison.

“Morgan, you have to eat the celery,” Ms. Macy said patiently, “Vegetables are important to have in a healthy, balanced meal.”

Morgan crossed her arms, “Daddy and Papa don’t make me eat celery.”

“And what about your Mommy?” Ms. Macy asked, already aware of her familial situation due to the excited rambles that often spilled out of her mouth during breaks such as this one.

“Mommy does,” Morgan admitted grudgingly.

Ms. Macy slid the Spider-Man themed lunchbox closer to the little girl. “Which means…?”

Morgan huffed and shoved the celery sticks into her mouth, chomping on them with a passive aggressive look on her face. Ms. Macy moved away from her to check on the other students, and Morgan spat out her celery.

She liked Ms. Macy -- she was nice and didn’t get annoyed if Morgan didn’t understand something right away. It reminded her of her fathers’ seemingly endless patience.

Morgan just didn’t want to listen to her. She didn’t defy her openly after suffering through the aforementioned time out, but she continued to feel reluctant when it came to following her orders.

She didn’t understand why she felt that way, but she supposed that it tied in with not understanding completely why she had to listen to her teacher in the first place.

The bell rang overhead -- Morgan winced automatically, still not used to its loud volume -- and the students started scrambling for their belongings. It was their third day of school, and no one was fully comfortable there just yet.

Morgan followed her classmates outside, her eyes roving over the parking lot with eager eyes. She wanted to be at home, cuddling with her fathers on the couch, but they didn’t seem to have arrived at her school yet.

She caught sight of a tall, slender woman leaning against a shiny white car. She was matching the automobile, clad in a prim, white dress with sunglasses and heels of the same color. Her strawberry blonde hair was left down, glimmering under the sunlight and more familiar to Morgan than most of the things she’d seen in her short life.

“Mommy?” Morgan breathed out and took off, streaking across the parking lot to get to her mother.

She had completely forgotten that she’d be spending the day with Pepper. For a moment, remorse ran through her at the thought of missing out on a day with her fathers, and she almost felt reluctant to be heading to her mom’s home -- the one Morgan had never bothered getting too comfortable in, knowing that she’d be leaving again in a short amount of time. She reminded herself that she got to see Pepper a lot less than she saw her dads and kept running, small breaths punching out of her lungs.

Caught up in her excitement, she didn’t notice the car moving towards her until it was too late. The car -- a silver Kia -- screeched to a stop, but to no avail; the front bumper hit Morgan and sent her flying to the ground.

Black spots cropped up in her vision, blinding her in tandem with the pain that flared in her left arm, which was bent in a way she was pretty sure it wasn’t supposed to be. She curled up on the road, whimpering loudly as nausea stirred in her gut.

She couldn’t handle it for long. In seconds, the black spots took over her sight entirely, swallowing the light and rendering her unconscious.

Morgan woke up in her mother’s arms, and for a moment, she was confused as to what was happening. She scanned the room they were in with bleary eyes, and found that she didn’t recognize it.

“Are you awake, sweetheart?” Pepper cooed, her forehead wrinkled in concern.

Morgan nodded, tears springing to her eyes as the memories came rushing back. She stared at her arm, unable to look away; it was bruised and bleeding, the slightest movements lighting it on fire.

“What’s wrong with me?” she wailed, shoving her face into Pepper’s chest to hide from her injury.

“The doctor will be back in a minute,” Pepper stroked her hair soothingly, “He’ll make you feel better, I promise. You just hurt your arm a bit.”

“Will Daddy and Papa come?” Morgan asked hopefully.

“Your daddy is on his way,” Pepper paused, “Who’s Papa?”

“Papa is Papa,” Morgan’s eyebrows furrowed, “He was Petey but now I call him Papa.”

“That’s inappropriate, Morgan,” Pepper chastised, “You can’t call everyone you see whatever you want to call them. Peter is a polite boy, he’s not going to tell you to stop, but you have to respect his boundaries. He’s not actually your papa.” 

“Yes, he is!” Morgan said defensively, “Daddy said I could call him that.”

“Of course he did,” Pepper muttered, rubbing her face in frustration.

A knock on the door interrupted their argument, causing them to look up expectantly. The door swung open, revealing Tony and Peter, both of whom hurried into the room with stricken looks on their faces.

“Oh, my baby,” Tony fell to his knees in front of Morgan’s chair, bringing his hands to her face. He took in every scrape and bruise with desperate eyes, until they settled on her throbbing arm.

“Hi, Daddy,” Morgan reached for him with her right arm. Tony took the cue for what it was and picked her up with gentle arms, clutching her to his chest.

Peter took his place at Tony’s side, rubbing Morgan’s back to get her attention. She looked up at the touch, giving him a toothy smile when she saw him.

“I didn’t forget Alfred this time,” Peter passed the beloved purple elephant to Morgan, who caged him in protectively between her chest and Tony’s.

“Thanks, Papa,” Morgan beamed, her happiness distracting her from the pain, “You’re the bestest person ever.”

“Hey, what about me?” Tony pouted, “Now that you have another daddy, you’re going to forget about me?”

“You didn’t bring Alfred,” Morgan pointed out, “It’s okay, Daddy. I still like you even if you didn’t bring him.”

“That’s one point for me,” Peter said smugly, “You’re going to have to catch up soon, old man, or I’ll be leaving you in the dust.”

“Who are you calling an old man?” Tony gaped, offended, “‘Cause I know you’re not talking to me right now.”

Pepper coughed, getting their attention. “Tony, can I talk to you outside?”

“After Morgan gets her arm fixed,” Tony answered, not quite ready to put his little girl down.

The doctor came in soon after and set Morgan’s arm, which resulted in a new round of tears. All three parents tried to comfort her, but the combined attention only overwhelmed her, so they backed off. Thankfully, once the arm was set, she calmed down a little.

“What color would you like your cast to be?” the doctor asked her.

“Purple,” Morgan waved Alfred in the air, showing him off to the doctor, “Then Alfred and I will be twins.”

When the doctor finished with Morgan, they thanked him and left the building. Once they got outside, Pepper grabbed Tony’s wrist, reminding him that she wanted to speak to him.

Peter took hold of Morgan’s right hand, “How about we look for Daddy’s car, Mo?”

Tony smiled at him gratefully, watching them walk away before turning to Pepper.

“Why are you letting her call him that?” Pepper asked, just as exasperated with him as she always was.

He used to find it endearing. Now it just got on his nerves.

“Well, look who’s learning not to argue in front of a child,” Tony applauded her sarcastically.

Pepper pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m serious, Tony. You’re letting her see him as a parent and get attached. Have you even thought about how uncomfortable this must be making him feel?”

“No, considering he insisted that he wanted to parent her,” Tony frowned at her, “I have no problem with letting her get attached, because Peter isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.”

“And once he graduates?” Pepper raised an eyebrow, “If he gets a job outside of the state -- outside of the country, even -- what will happen?” 

“If that happens, Peter and I will talk about it,” Tony shrugged.

“Don’t tell me you’d move with him,” Pepper’s jaw dropped, “You would uproot Morgan’s life and take her away from me to stay close to your intern?”

“Can you stop putting words in my mouth?” Tony snapped, “Even if we do move, it would be because Peter is my boyfriend and Morgan’s father. He stopped interning for me years ago.”

Pepper’s eyes widened in horror, “Boyfriend? Are you serious? Do you know the PR mess I’ll have to deal with if this gets out?”

“Then it’s a good thing I have a PR team being paid to do this exact thing, isn’t it?” Tony asked coolly, “I’m not ashamed of Peter; and frankly, I don’t give two shits what the world will think.”

“Okay, you don’t care,” Pepper threw her hands up, “We’ll talk about this later. This is still my day with Morgan, though, so bring her back.”

The walk to Tony’s car was shrouded in tense silence. Peter was sitting on the hood of Tony’s car with Morgan in his lap, the two playing an intense game of rock paper scissors. Tony’s bad mood instantly lightened up, and he kissed Peter’s forehead in greeting once he reached the car, then bending down to do the same to Morgan.

Morgan left with Pepper, and Tony couldn’t bring himself to feel annoyed about it. He was just relieved that his daughter was okay.


	12. Chapter 12

Tony: _Baby, where are you? We’re waiting to have dinner with you._

Tony: _And Morgan misses you, so hurry up._

Tony: _Okay, fine. She’s not the only one that misses you._

Tony: _Pete?_

Tony: _We had dinner without you. Morgan’s getting upset, and I don’t want to deal with the tantrum she’ll throw if you’re not back to tuck her in._

Tony: _Parker, I swear to God, if you’re not home in the next thirty minutes I’m going to kill you._

Tony: _Just be safe please, wherever you are._

“Daddy, where’s Papa?” Morgan asked for the sixth time that night.

Tony had managed to wrangle her into her pajamas and put her to bed, but she was refusing to sleep. She didn’t want to sleep until Peter came back, but Tony wasn’t sure when that was going to be. 

Morgan sighed when he didn’t respond, tracing the swirling patterns on her pajama pants. Tony eased himself into the bed to sit next to her, observing the conflicted look in her eyes. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Tony tucked her into his side. 

“What does that mean?” Morgan looked bewildered, “Why would you pay for my thoughts?” 

Tony smothered his laughter in her hair. “It’s an idiom, honey. I’m not paying for your thoughts, I’m wondering what you’re thinking about.” 

“Oh,” Morgan grinned up at him deviously, “That will cost you one penny, then. Or I won’t tell you.” 

Tony beamed proudly. “Look at you -- five years old and already a better businessman than Hammer.” 

His smile faded when Peter’s laughter didn’t accompany the joke (though, really, he wasn’t joking, but -- semantics). 

“I was thinking about Papa,” Morgan admitted in a small voice, “Did he leave like Mommy did?” 

Tony’s chest constricted at the thought, but he ignored it and said, “Papa is just very, very late. He won’t do it anymore, Morguna, don’t worry. I’m going to talk to him when he comes home.” 

Morgan nodded silently against his chest. They stayed like that for an hour before she fell asleep, but Tony didn’t leave or move to his own bed. It would feel too big and too empty, anyway, now that Peter had slept in it with him and wasn’t here to do it again. 

“Mr. Parker has entered the building,” FRIDAY voiced quietly, careful now that there was a risk of waking Morgan. 

Tony slid out of the bed immediately, barely remembering to cover Morgan with her blanket before racing out of her room. He got to the living room right as the elevator doors opened, out of which Peter came stumbling out in his Spider-Man suit. 

“Where were you?” Tony hissed, following him as he trudged to their room, “Do you know how worried I was?” 

Peter pressed the spider emblem on his suit, letting it fall to the ground before stepping out of it. He tossed it into the hamper and sat heavily on the bed, watching Tony with earnest eyes. Tony shifted angrily in front of him, waiting for him to start talking. 

“I’m sorry,” Peter told him, “And before you start yelling, it wasn’t my fault, so-”

“I’m not going to start yelling, because guess what time it is, genius. Guess who’s daughter only just fell asleep because she was waiting up for you.” Tony stalked forward, poking his chest harshly. 

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” Peter groaned, “It really wasn’t my fault. My phone died, so I couldn’t call you, and I ran out of webs so I had to walk all the way back here. I had no clothes other than the suit, and there’s no way Spider-Man is taking a cab -- then everyone will know where I live.” 

“What about Karen? She could have contacted me,” Tony narrowed his eyes, “Unless you were messing with the suit again.” 

Peter clenched his jaw at the accusation. “I wasn’t. She’s still malfunctioning from when I had to fight that evil wizard guy last week.” 

“Why didn’t you fix her?” Tony facepalmed, “She’s there to help you, which she can’t do if she’s not working. You’ve had all this time to do it. And if you didn’t want to, you could have given her to me.” 

“I didn’t want to bother you, and then I just never got around to doing it,” Peter answered sheepishly. 

Tony scoffed. “You wouldn’t have bothered me.” 

He yanked Peter into a rough kiss, murmuring against his lips, “This is because I’m glad you’re safe.” He pulled away from him abruptly, tugging him out of the bed and towards the door, “And this is because you worried me.”

He pushed Peter onto the couch in the living room and turned to go back to their room. 

“I have to sleep on the couch?” Peter called after him, “Seriously? It’s not like I chose to worry you!” 

Tony’s only response was to shut the door to their room. Secure in the knowledge that Peter was home and safe, he went through his night routine and fell onto the bed in an exhausted heap. He was as comfortable as his smooth sheets and soft blankets allowed, but sleep did not come. 

He knew what the problem was. Peter wasn’t laying next to him, and of course Tony would be clingy enough to struggle falling asleep without him. That was just his luck, really. 

He slipped out of bed and crept to the living room, deciding that he would sleep with Peter on the couch and wake up before he did -- Peter would never have to know that he couldn’t follow through with his own punishment. 

When he reached the sofa he’d left Peter on, he discovered that Peter wasn’t there, causing his heart to sink. 

He knew, logically, that it wasn’t fully Peter’s fault that he was so late. Maybe he’d gone too far by exiling him from their bedroom. Maybe Peter had decided he didn’t want to put up with him anymore, and left. 

Tony sank onto the couch with his head in his hands. He’d fucked up again; he’d known that he was being naive by hoping that his relationship with Peter would last. 

“FRI?” Tony spoke up a while later, “Did Peter say anything before he left? Leave a message or something?” 

FRIDAY sounded confused when she answered. “Mr. Parker has not left the premises.” 

Tony’s head shot up, fast enough that his neck throbbed punishingly, “Where is he?” 

“He is resting in his bedroom.” 

Tony stood up slowly, “You mean, the room he was in before we got together?”

“Yes, Boss.” 

He blew out a long, relieved breath. Peter was still here; he wasn’t going to leave, and he still wanted to be with Tony. 

Tony opened the door to Peter’s bedroom, slipping inside with the stealthiness of a SHIELD agent. He padded over to the bed and crawled onto it, hugging Peter’s chest to himself and resting his left leg over the younger man’s hips. Clinging to him tightly, Tony laid his head on Peter’s shoulder and closed his eyes. 

Now, with Peter in his arms, he could sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sick and I hate it


	13. Chapter 13

Peter woke up to the feeling of his arm going numb. Opening his eyes, he looked down to see Tony cradled under his right arm and over his left. Amusement bubbled in his chest - wasn’t he supposed to be sleeping without him?

He felt around his nightstand blindly for his phone, grabbing it and turning it on. After pulling his left arm out from under Tony, he scrolled through his notifications and answered some texts.

The slow opening of his door had him tensing up and curling his fists, instinct driving him to get off the bed and fall into a defensive stance. He loosened up when he saw that it was only Morgan, climbing back into his bed and letting her do the same. She laid down on his chest, her head above his heart, and wound her arms around him. 

“Hi, baby,” Peter whispered, the term of endearment slipping out without a thought, “We have to be quiet, okay? Daddy’s sleeping.” 

Morgan nodded silently, her hair tickling his bare chest. “Where were you?” 

“I was on patrol,” Peter explained, but she already knew that part, “I ran out of webs and had to walk back home. I’m sorry I was late.” 

“It’s okay,” Morgan mumbled, “Just don’t do it again, Papa. It wasn’t nice.” 

Peter hummed in agreement, hands coming up to rub her back, “Why are you up so early?”

“I had a nightmare,” Morgan said, her small body stiffening at the reminder, “It was really scary.” 

Peter cooed in sympathy, “Yeah, those suck, huh? Do you want to tell me about it?”

After a moment of consideration, Morgan nodded, “The monster under my bed came out and ate me. Then he went and ate you and Daddy.” 

“There’s a monster under your bed?” Peter gasped, “Do you want me to go talk to him? Surely he’s no match for Spider-Man.” 

Morgan giggled, muffling them in his chest to avoid waking Tony, “You can’t fight him, Papa. He’s made of shadows.” 

“No?” Peter raised his eyebrows, “Has there been any villain that I haven’t been able to beat?” 

“No,” Morgan answered. 

“And do you really think the monster won’t be scared of Spider-Man and Iron Man?” Peter questioned her playfully.

“No,” Morgan said again.

“Then I’ll fight the monster,” Peter told her firmly, “I don’t need him scaring my baby.”

There it was again - ‘baby’. He froze immediately, waiting for Morgan to call him out on it, but she didn’t seem to notice. She just snuggled closer, and slowly, Peter allowed himself to relax. 

“Okay, Papa,” Morgan agreed, “Just don’t let him eat you.” 

“You drive a hard bargain,” Peter smiled. 

“What does that mean?” Morgan’s face scrunched up. 

Peter laughed softly, sparing a glance at Tony to make sure he was still asleep, “Don’t worry about it, Mo.”

“What are you two blabbing about?” Tony grunted, “Whatever, I don’t care, but it’s too early for this.” 

He rolled onto his side, turning his back to them, but Morgan wasn’t going to be deterred. She shuffled off of Peter and jumped onto Tony, causing him to let out a stream of curses that he barely remembered to censor. 

“You’re awake, Daddy,” Morgan shook him, “You can’t sleep anymore. And guess what? Papa said he’s going to fight the monster!”

Tony sat up then, giving Peter a hard and slightly panicked stare. “You’re going on patrol? Already?”

Morgan was already answering before he could even open his mouth. 

“No, Daddy,” Morgan sighed, exasperated, “He’s gonna fight the monster under my bed.” 

“Ah, I see,” Tony laid back down, letting her sprawl all over him and reaching for Peter with his right hand. Peter took it in his left, rubbing his knuckles mindlessly. 

“We have to get you ready for school, Mo,” Peter said, checking his phone for the time. 

Morgan huffed, “I don’t wanna go to school.” 

“And why is that, little miss?” Tony lifted a brow questioningly. 

“Ms. Macy makes me eat all my veggies,” Morgan complained, “And she always puts me in timeout if I don’t listen to her.” 

“I can homeschool you,” Tony offered hopefully. 

“No, you can’t,” Peter sent him a reprimanding look, “I swear, you’re taking this ‘school’ thing worse than she is. She can’t stay home forever.” 

Tony faltered under his stare, turning to Morgan to avoid it, “Sorry, honey, but you heard Papa. You can’t not go to school just because you don’t like veggies or following orders. You’re supposed to listen to your teacher.”

“But why?” Morgan whined, “She’s not my mommy.” 

“Because when we leave you at school, we’re trusting your teacher to take care of you,” Peter explained, “By listening to her, you’re listening to us.” 

“Okay, Papa,” Morgan relented, sliding off of the bed, “I’m gonna go choose my outfit.”

She ran out of the room, and Tony waited for the pitter patter of her feet to fade away before pulling Peter towards him. 

“You’re good at this parenting thing,” Tony purred, leaning down to capture his mouth in his own. 

“Thank you,” Peter pulled away from him, “But I’m not kissing you until we’ve both brushed our teeth.” 

“Dick,” Tony punched him playfully, rolling off of the bed and landing on his feet before starting to make his way to the ensuite.

“Oh, and by the way,” Peter snickered, “What happened to ‘you’re sleeping on the couch’?” 

The only response he got was a middle finger.

They all got ready and hopped into one of Tony’s cars, snacking on bananas because they were running late and hadn’t had time to make breakfast. 

“So, it’s almost Halloween,” Tony started conversationally, “Any plans, Pete?” 

“That depends on what you and Morgan want to do,” Peter shrugged, pulling a second banana out of his pocket and starting to eat it. 

“Meaning?” 

Peter swallowed the bit of banana he had in his mouth. “Meaning, I’ve been invited to a couple of parties, but would prefer to do whatever you guys are doing. If you’re not doing anything, I might go to one of the parties.” 

“I wanna go trick-or-treating,” Morgan piped up. 

Peter glanced at Tony for confirmation before saying, “Then we’re going trick-or-treating.” 

“Do you know who you want to dress up as?” Tony asked his daughter, catching her eyes in the overhead mirror. 

“No,” Morgan shook her head, “Maybe I’ll be a pirate. Or I can be a zombie!” 

“We’ll look for costumes after school, okay?” Tony asked her, eyes moving back to the road. 

“Okay, Daddy.”


	14. Chapter 14

“It’s crazy, isn’t it?” a woman asked Peter, “Just yesterday, she was a baby, and now she’s in school.” 

Peter bit his cheek in confusion, facing the woman standing next to him at the gates of Morgan’s elementary school. “Who?” 

The woman tucked some stray strands of hair behind her ears, turning away from the gates to look back at him. “My daughter Tia. Who are you here to pick up?” 

“I’m here for my daughter too,” Peter smiled. 

“Oh?” the woman’s eyes widened in surprise, “But you’re so young. Well, I shouldn’t assume, I’m sorry. My name is Molly.” 

Peter shook her hand. “Nice to meet you - and that’s okay, I know I’m young.” 

Molly’s lips curved up then. “You know what? This is going to sound weird, but can I have your number? I think we’ll get along.”

Peter hesitated; he didn’t make it a habit to give his number to people he’d known for all of five minutes, but he also wasn’t sure how to politely say ‘no’. 

“We could set up playdates,” Molly added when he didn’t say anything, “As long as you come along too; keep me company while the girls play.” 

“Uh, sure,” Peter pulled his phone out, handing it to her so that she could add her number in, “I’ll have to check if that’s okay with Morgan first, though. I’ll let you know.” 

“That’s fine,” Molly assured him, returning his phone with a coy smile.

The bell rang, and children started spilling out of the classrooms, chatting with their friends as they walked to the doors of the gate. A teacher unlocked the gates, letting the children through when they spotted their parents. A familiar head of brown hair came running at Peter, colliding with him roughly. 

“Oh, ow,” Peter grunted, “Hi, Mo. Did you have a good day at school?”

“Uh huh!” Morgan looked up from where her face had been pressed into his stomach, “A firefighter came today to talk about his job. It was so cool, Papa, I think I’m gonna be a firefighter when I grow up.” 

“That does sound cool,” Peter said agreeably, “Maybe that’s what you can be for Halloween.” 

“Yeah!” Morgan jumped excitedly, her happiness dimming a little when she noticed their audience, “Who’s that?” 

Molly smiled at the duo fondly, her eyes lingering on Peter before sliding to Morgan. “My name is Molly, and I have a daughter named Tia who goes to this school. Do you know her?” 

“Yes,” Morgan nodded shyly, “She draws dragons a lot when we do art. Even though Ms. Macy said that’s not what we’re supposed to draw.” 

Molly chuckled, “That does sound like her. Oh, there she is!” 

Tia turned out to be a blonde girl around Morgan’s height, with blue eyes that matched the sky above them. She walked to her mom with her backpack cradled in her arms rather than worn on her back, looking tired and ready to fall asleep on the pavement at any moment. 

“Someone looks ready for a nap,” Molly teased, taking the backpack from her so that she wouldn’t have to hold it.

Tia flushed. “I’m not a baby. Naps are for babies.” 

“No, they’re not,” Molly sighed, before looking at Peter. “We’ll get going, but let me know about the playdates.” 

“What playdates?” Morgan asked once they’d walked away. 

Peter picked her up and started walking to the car, strapping her into her carseat once they got to it. “She was wondering if you would want to play with Tia after school someday.” 

“Um,” Morgan looked out of the window when Peter started driving, kicking her feet idly, “Maybe. She doesn’t share toys at school, which is really mean because they’re not hers. They’re Ms. Macy’s.” 

“You don’t have to decide right now,” Peter told her, “By the way, I think it’s time to switch to a booster. We should talk to Daddy about it.” 

Morgan beamed. “Yay! I told him, and he always said no.” 

“That’s ‘cause you were smaller then,” Peter laughed, “He just wants you to be safe.” 

Morgan nodded absently, already distracted from the conversation with a different thought. “Can we get my firefighter costume today? Please, Papa?” 

“Sure, Mo,” Peter slowed to a stop at a red light, “We’ll see if Daddy can come. If he can’t, we can get it online or go without him.” 

“Can we get a costume for DUM-E, too? He’ll feel left out if we don’t.” Morgan asked hopefully. 

Peter hummed, “What do you think we should get?” 

“He can be WALL-E!” Morgan exclaimed immediately.

Peter had a feeling that she’d been thinking about that for a while. They brought it up that night at dinner, to which Tony said:

“It’s a great idea, Morguna, but the costume won’t fit him. He’s not a human.”

Morgan pouted. “Then we can make him one.” 

“We can try,” Tony agreed, “But we’ll do it tomorrow. It’s too late now - speaking of which, you need to go brush your teeth and change into your pajamas.” 

“Okay,” Morgan slid off of her chair and started walking out of the room. 

“Don’t forget the toothpaste this time,” Tony called after her, “Brushing with water doesn’t count.” 

Peter picked up the plates and carried them over to the sink, where he started washing them while Tony cleaned up the table. The older man plastered himself to Peter’s back, resting his chin on his shoulder and kissing his jaw. 

“Hi, Tony,” Peter said, amused. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” Tony brushed his kisses lower, reaching his neck, “The Avengers are going to throw a party on Halloween. You up for going?” 

“What about trick-or-treating?” Peter wondered, setting the dishes down to turn and hug Tony back. 

“We’re still doing that,” Tony confirmed, “The party isn’t kid-friendly. They’re having it when Morgan’s asleep.”

“You can go,” Peter told him, “I’ll stay home with Morgan.” 

Tony drew back. “You can come too, you know. The Avengers aren’t just my friends; they’re yours too. I know I said I don’t trust babysitters, but I could get one just for that night. You don’t have to stay here.” 

“No, it’s fine,” Peter said frantically, “No babysitters. I’d rather stay home, anyway. I don’t feel like partying.” 

Tony conceded, looking a little worried at his reaction. “Alright. Let me know if you change your mind.” 

“I will,” Peter kissed him firmly, and the moment was forgotten.


	15. Chapter 15

“What’s this, honey?” Tony accepted the blue paper Morgan handed to him. 

Morgan looked up from her steaming bowl of soup. “Ms. Macy said that you have to sign it so I can go to the zoo.” 

Tony scanned the paper thoroughly, sharp eyes taking in every detail, before hesitance took over his face. “I don’t know, Morgan...Your teacher would have thirty other kids to keep an eye on. I don’t want you going somewhere practically unsupervised.” 

Morgan turned her puppy eyes on, then, pleading, “Please, Daddy? I’m not gonna do anything wrong.”

He was about to give in when all his worries strengthened, bringing all the cons to light in his mind. “No, Morgan. I’m sorry.” 

Morgan’s face fell, and she turned away from him with a huff, deciding to try her luck with Peter. “Papa? Can I go?” 

Peter looked between the two Starks, both of whom looked desperate, though for different reasons. “Can I see the paper?”

Tony wordlessly slid it over to him. Peter picked it up and read through everything it said, trying to ignore the eyes on him. Finally, he set the paper down and said, “I don’t have classes that day. How about I go as a chaperone?” 

“What’s a chaperone?” Morgan asked, but it was overshadowed by Tony saying:

“That’s a good idea, sweetheart.” 

He looked immensely relieved, having not wanted to upset either of them. He produced a fancy pen from his suit jacket and signed the paper with a flourish, which he then gave back to Morgan. 

“What’s a chaperone?” Morgan asked again, getting a little impatient. 

“An adult who chooses to go on field trips to help the teacher,” Peter explained, “I’m coming so I can watch you.”

“Oh,” Morgan blinked, “Can Daddy come too?”

“Daddy has work that day,” Tony said with a rueful smile, “But we can all go to the zoo together on another day.” 

“Okay, Daddy,” Morgan pushed her bowl away, “Can we work on DUM-E’s costume again?”

“Only if you finish your food,” Tony nudged her bowl back to its original spot. 

Peter let himself tune out their conversation when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He slid it out and turned on the screen, which showed a text from a person he’d never texted before.

Molly❤: _Hey, this is Molly. You told me to add myself into your contacts, so I’m just checking that it all works :)_

Peter’s face pinched in confusion. Why would she put a heart in her contact name? They barely knew each other. That was something friends did - or lovers, for that matter. Maybe she already considered them friends, which was… concerning and somewhat sweet all at the same time.

Peter: _I got your text. Yeah, this is Peter, so it all works haha_

He turned his phone off, expecting that to be it, but his screen lit up with another text. 

Molly❤: _Did Morgan tell you about the field trip yet?_

Peter: _Yes. She’s gonna go on the trip. Are you letting Tia come?_

Molly❤: _Yep. Are you coming too? I’m going to chaperone, and I could use a friend…_

Peter: _I am coming, actually, yeah. I’ll see you there?_

Molly❤: _You bet ;)_

Peter put his phone back in his pocket, feeling slightly weirded out. Molly was a little - touchy, maybe? He wasn’t sure how to explain it. Maybe that was just the type of person she was. He brushed it off and returned his attention to the Starks, who were finishing their soup and starting to clear the table. He stood up and joined them in their efforts, his conversation with Molly already pushed to the back of his mind.

On the Friday of that same week, the family of three was getting ready to leave the penthouse. Morgan and Peter would be going on the former’s first ever field trip, and Tony would be having a boring day at the office. 

Peter had finished getting ready first and was making a lunch that they could all take with them, splitting it into three brown paper bags. When he finished, Tony and Morgan were waiting for him, and they all went down to the garage. 

When they arrived at the school, Tony leaned forward to kiss him, taking a moment to murmur against his lips, “Take a lot of pictures for me, okay? I want to see everything.” 

“Of course,” Peter pressed another quick kiss onto his mouth before pulling away, “Have a good day at work. Love you.” 

“Love you too, honey,” Tony faced the backseat, where Morgan was sitting on her new booster, “Have fun on your trip, Morguna. You’ll have to tell me all about it when you come home.” 

“Okay, Daddy,” Morgan patted her seatbelt with eager hands, “Papa, we have to go or the bus will leave without us.” 

“Okay, okay,” Peter got out of the car and helped Morgan do the same, sending Tony one last wave before entering the school. 

When they got to the classroom, Morgan received a sticker with her name on it from Ms. Macy, which was supposed to help the zoo staff identify any missing kids from the trip. The little girl ran off to join a group of kids in the corner of the class, ditching Peter as a result, but he didn’t mind. He was just glad to see that she’d managed to make friends. 

He didn’t stay alone for very long. Molly spotted him from where she was standing next to the window, and made her way over, brushing her hand along his bicep in greeting. 

“Oh, hey,” Peter said, relieved to have someone to talk to, “How are you?” 

“I’m doing good,” Molly sent him a small smile, “Especially now that I get to go on this trip.”

“Have you not been to the zoo before?” Peter asked, surprised. 

“No, I have,” Molly shook her head, letting her hand fall from his arm, “I just have better company this time around.” 

“I see,” Peter grinned at her awkwardly. It turned out that MJ had been right when she said that he needed to work on his social skills.

Just then, Ms. Macy clapped at the front of the classroom, getting everyone’s attention. 

“Alright, everyone,” she said, “The buses are here, and I expect you all to be on your best behavior. Now - who’s ready to go to the zoo?” 

A chorus of cheers went up in the classroom. 


	16. Chapter 16

The zoo was unsurprisingly fairly vacant, considering everyone was either at work or at school. The only ones there, other than the class, were a couple of elderly people and the staff. The children roamed freely once they saw that there were no crowds to get lost in, despite Ms. Macy’s efforts. The chaperones merely shared resigned glances and split off to make sure each gaggle of children had a supervisor, catching all of the lone wolves and getting them to join a group. 

Peter grabbed Morgan’s hand before anyone else could, activating his stickiness so that she couldn’t get away. 

She tugged on his hand fruitlessly. “Papa, let go, I wanna see the animals.” 

“I’ll let go when everyone finishes getting into groups,” Peter assured her. 

Six children joined Peter’s group, including Tia. He noticed Molly glancing at them from where she stood with her own group, and figured she was checking on her daughter. He understood that; he wasn’t exactly letting his own run around without him. 

When everyone finished getting into their groups, Ms. Macy gave them the go ahead, saying that they had three hours to walk around before they needed to reconvene for lunch.

Peter kept a close eye on all of the kids in his group throughout the day. They often argued over which exhibit they should see next, but Peter made sure to cut in and form a compromise of some sort each time it happened, wanting to avoid all meltdowns as much as possible. 

He took pictures of Morgan at every exhibit, sometimes entering the frame himself and taking selfies with her. He sent them all to Tony, who oohed and aahed over every single one, seemingly uncaring over the fact that he was supposed to be paying attention to the meeting he was in. 

Disaster couldn’t be avoided forever, though. They were all walking to the giraffe exhibit when Hugo, a little boy with bangs that constantly fell into his eyes, stumbled over a pebble and fell to the ground. He scraped both knees as a result, which he curled over as he started crying.

Peter knelt down to where he was sitting, using the same gentle tone he’d been using all day as he said, “It’s okay, buddy. They’re just gonna sting for a little bit.”

“It hurts,” Hugo hiccuped, small hands rubbing at his tears. 

“What if we went and got you a bandaid?” Peter suggested, “Would that make you feel better?” 

Hugo nodded silently, raising his arms in the universal sign for ‘pick me up’. Peter swung him into his arms, propping him onto his hip as he herded the rest of the kids with them to the medical centre in the zoo. 

“But you said we could see the giraffes,” Tia said forlornly. 

“We can still see them after we get a bandaid for Hugo,” Peter told her, “We still have a little bit of time before lunch, don’t worry.”

Hugo refused to sit anywhere other than Peter’s lap when they entered the medical centre, visibly comforted by having an adult presence near him. Peter didn’t mind, just wrapped an arm around him to prevent him from falling off. 

The nurse smiled knowingly when she met them. “You got some scrapes, huh? We’ll rinse them, bandage them, and you’ll be good to go.” 

“Thank you,” Hugo said later, when she finished, “Now they’re not gonna hurt?”

“They’re not going to hurt,” the nurse promised. 

Hugo was still clingy when they found the giraffe exhibit, holding onto Peter’s arms so that he wouldn’t put him down. After spotting the tall animals, however, he scrambled to get down and come closer to the gate. He didn’t ask to be picked back up after that.

They went to lunch when they finished with the giraffes, where they met with all the other groups. Everyone found a table for themselves and pulled out their packed lunches, eating with a hunger that only materialized after spending several hours out in the sun. 

Peter was halfway through with his sandwich when he noticed Morgan frowning down at her own. He set his food down and pulled her aside, away from the group’s earshot. 

“What’s wrong, Mo?” Peter questioned, turning her head to get her to look at him. 

“You’re my papa,” Morgan said firmly. 

“Uh, yeah,” Peter furrowed his brows, “We already talked about that.” 

“But you were being Hugo’s papa,” Morgan whined, her face twisting up in a scowl, “That’s not fair, you’re my papa.”

Peter shook his head in denial. “I was taking care of him, because he was hurt. That’s not ‘being his papa’. Hugo has his own parents.” 

“But you carried him,” Morgan said insistently, “You didn’t carry me.” 

Peter sighed heavily, “Morgan. When someone is hurt, you have to help them and comfort them. Carrying him made him feel better. It’s okay to feel jealous sometimes - but there’s really nothing to be jealous over. You’re not being fair to Hugo.”

“So you’re still my papa,” Morgan simpered, apparently only getting that out of their conversation. 

“I was never not your papa,” Peter rolled his eyes and swept her up, taking her back to the table and seating her in his lap this time.

Kids were difficult, but he’d known that before signing up to raise one. He’d just have to talk to her about this again at home.

Through the corner of his eye, he spotted Molly making her way to their table. His phone started ringing in his pocket before she could reach them - which he was oddly relieved by; he wasn’t sure why she made him feel uncomfortable - and he took it out to see that it was Tony calling. 

Peter accepted the call immediately, bringing his phone to his ear.

“Hi, baby,” Tony said warmly, “How’s the trip going?” 

“It’s been a little up and down,” Peter sighed, “Being a chaperone is more tiring than I thought it would be.” 

“Do you want a massage when you come home?” Tony asked silkily, “I happen to know a handsome, smart, good-in-bed man who’s very good with his hands.” 

Peter snorted. “Does he have an ego to match?” 

“Well, maybe,” Tony admitted, “How about it, sweetheart? You want a massage?”

“A massage sounds amazing,” Peter groaned, noticing Molly reach their table and hover next to it, watching him speak on the phone with curious eyes as she waited for his attention. 

Morgan turned in his lap to peer up at him. “Are you talking to Daddy?” 

“Yes,” Peter handed his phone to her, “Do you want to say hi?” 

She accepted the phone and chirped into it, “Hi, Daddy!” 

Molly looked surprised when Peter got up to speak with her, and the first thing she said was, “Are you married?” 

Peter blushed helplessly in response. Marrying Tony sounded like a dream come true. “No, I’m dating Morgan’s dad.” 

“So, you’re not her real dad?” Molly wondered. 

Peter pursed his lips in thought, “I’m more like an unofficial step-dad.” 

“Oh, good,” she looked relieved, though Peter couldn't figure out why, “Tia’s dad and I split up a couple of years ago.”

She waited for his response with an expectant expression, as if anticipating a specific response. 

All he said was, “I’m sorry about that.” 

“It’s fine,” Molly shrugged, “We just didn’t work out.” 

A few feet away, Morgan was still sitting at the table and talking to Tony, chewing on her sandwich whenever it was his turn to speak. 

“Alright, bye, Morguna,” Tony said cheerfully, “I’m glad you’re having fun. Can you pass the phone to Papa so I can tell him goodbye?” 

Morgan bit off another piece of the sandwich, then said, “He’s talking to Molly right now.” 

Tony paused, “Who’s that?”

Morgan watched the aforementioned woman talk to Peter at the same time that she said, “She’s Papa’s friend.”

“It’s okay, Morgan,” Tony said slowly, trying to remember if Peter had ever mentioned having a friend named Molly, “Go ahead and pass him the phone anyway.” 

Morgan jumped off of the chair and wandered over to where Peter and Molly were chatting. She tugged at her father’s sleeve silently, getting him to turn around, and handed him the phone, not noticing the annoyed expression that briefly flickered over Molly’s face.

“Hey,” Tony said to Peter, whose body tingled automatically at hearing his voice, “I just wanted to say goodbye before I hung up.” 

Peter smiled warmly, “Thank you, baby. I’ll see you at home?” 

“You got it,” Tony laughed, “Bye, Pete.” 

“Bye,” Peter reluctantly hung up, and turned back to Molly. 

The rest of the trip was uneventful, but he counted himself lucky. ‘Uneventful’ was leagues above ‘bad’, and Peter’s experience with Parker Luck had taught him to be grateful for the former.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda hate this chapter but here it is


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very brief NFF moment in this chapter - it's only two sentences.

Tony wasn’t surprised to see Peter and Morgan watching Star Wars when he came home from work. If anything, he was surprised that it had taken Peter this long to show their daughter his favorite film series.

He bent over the back of the couch and hugged them both to his chest, releasing them after a few seconds to round the couch and wedge himself in between them. They moved obligingly, letting him settle on the couch and throw his arms over their shoulders. 

“You’re a bad influence,” Tony complained, leaning closer to Peter to give him a sweet kiss, “I can’t believe you’re already indoctrinating her. She’s five, Parker.” 

“No one’s too young for Star Wars,” Peter refuted, moving his gaze from Tony to Morgan, who was crawling onto Tony’s lap, “Right, Mo?” 

“Right, Papa,” she settled down, her bony knees digging painfully into Tony’s thighs. 

Tony smoothed her hair fondly, “And how have you been, little miss?” 

“I’m good,” she cuddled closer, “Did you see the pictures Papa sent you?” 

“I did,” Tony confirmed, picking up Peter’s hand to tug him closer, “They all looked great. Which animal did you like the most?” 

Morgan wiggled in his lap with excitement, “The elephant! Except he wasn’t purple like Alfred.” 

Tony hummed, finally getting Peter to curl up under his arm, thus turning his cuddle with Morgan into a group cuddle. “Elephants aren’t supposed to be purple, honey. Alfred is just special.”

“Papa already told me that,” Morgan said dismissively, turning back to the screen, “Can you play the movie, Daddy? Papa said I can’t watch it after bedtime, so I have to finish it now.”

Tony picked up the remote and hit the play button, saying, “He is absolutely right. I don’t want to deal with a cranky kid.” 

She didn’t respond, already immersed in the movie, so Tony faced Peter again and gave him another kiss. Peter responded carefully but eagerly, keeping their kisses short in the presence of a child. He pulled away after a couple of seconds, amused at the pout on Tony’s face. 

“Still up for that massage, sweetheart?” Tony whispered, his warm breath tickling Peter’s ear. 

Peter’s eyes darkened with a familiar hunger, “You know I am.” 

“Later,” Tony promised, his expression earnest and just as hungry, “After we put Morgan to bed.” 

The movie ended fifty minutes later. They had a quick dinner - pizza from a place two blocks away, because no one wanted to try their luck with cooking at the moment - and started getting ready for bed. Morgan fell asleep while brushing her teeth; Peter found her at the sink, swaying on her feet with her green toothbrush sticking out of her mouth. He called Tony over, and they both spent a good two minutes laughing at the cute scene, before pulling the toothbrush out of Morgan’s mouth and tucking her into her bed. 

Once she was settled in, Tony swept Peter off of his feet and carried him, bridal style, to their bedroom. He tossed him onto the bed and followed after him, covering him with his body as he hovered over him. Peter raised his head and caught his lips in his own, taking advantage of Tony’s distracted state by sneaking a hand into his boxers. Tony’s breath stuttered, and he pulled away from the kiss with glistening lips, dropping his head onto Peter’s shoulder as he palmed at his cock. 

Two hours later, they were both asleep, sweat cooling their heated bodies. They hadn’t bothered with a shower, too fatigued to move from their bed, and had curled up together to sleep. Tony had thought that the excitement of the day was over, but he was proven wrong when he was pulled out of his sleep by the low murmur or Peter’s voice. He cracked his eyes open and spotted Peter sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to Tony, speaking into his phone with a hushed voice. 

“Pete?” he called in a tired voice, “Who are you talking to? You need to sleep.” 

Peter twisted around to face him, saying, “I’m talking to a friend of mine.” 

Tony glanced at the alarm clock next to him, the neon green numbers glaring back at him, “At one am?” 

“Yeah,” Peter’s mouth twisted unhappily, “At one am.” 

Tony frowned, “Well, tell your friend to fuck off. You have to sleep. Boyfriend’s orders.” 

Peter brought his phone back to his ear and said, “Sorry, Molly, but I’m kinda tired and I want to go to bed.” 

Tony heard a female voice giggle at the other end of the line. 

“It’s okay, Peter. I’ll see you around?” the woman - Molly, apparently - asked buoyantly. 

“Yeah,” Peter confirmed, “Goodnight.” 

He hung up the phone and tossed it onto his nightstand, getting under the covers and leaning into Tony’s side, sighing in contentment at the warmth. 

Tony was still frowning. “We’re not going to talk about this?” 

“About what?” Peter mumbled, a small yawn escaping his mouth. In different circumstances, Tony would have cooed at the sight. 

“Why is she calling you so late?” Tony wondered, doing his best to sound calm and not demanding. 

Peter spoke against Tony’s shoulder, his voice coming out muffled, “I don’t know. She’s weird. But don’t tell her I said that.” 

Tony wanted to press further, but Peter was already asleep, his even breaths fanning over Tony’s bare skin. 

He didn’t want to be suspicious of anything, but, well - Peter had never mentioned having a friend named Molly. Tony had had to learn about her from Morgan; if they were close enough to be having phone calls this late at night, why didn’t Peter tell him about her? He knew about Ned and MJ. It would have made sense for them to be calling at odd times, but not for this woman that Tony knew nothing about. 

Tony wasn’t one to snoop - he was, but that was with government databases, not his partner’s belongings - but when Peter’s phone buzzed, he couldn’t help picking it up and checking the screen. 

Molly❤: _*Attached Image*_

Tony didn’t stop to consider how angry Peter might get if he looked through his texts. All he knew was that this woman was messaging his boyfriend at an uncourteous time. This woman had a heart in her contact name - something only Tony had. 

Feeling slightly sick, he unlocked Peter’s phone and went to check what Molly had sent to Peter. The picture downloaded in seconds, revealing a blonde woman clad in red lingerie. Her camera was tilted downward, honing in on her breasts, and he could see her left hand rubbing at her crotch. 

Molly❤: _You know I can treat you better than he does_

He dropped the phone onto the bed, his heart slamming against his ribcage as the slightly sick feeling in his stomach morphed into all-out nausea. 

There was no denying it. 

Peter was cheating on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I disappeared for so long, but I hope this chapter makes up for it.


	18. Chapter 18

Tony was having a hard time carrying on like nothing was wrong, but he had already resolved to pretend he didn’t know about Peter’s unfaithfulness. He’d decided, laying on their bed that night with stinging eyes, that he’d much rather have half of Peter’s heart than none at all. He tried fruitlessly to find the point in time where it all went wrong; what had he done to make Peter turn to someone else? Why wasn’t he enough?

He had to have done something wrong at some point. That was how it always went, after all. 

He wasn’t able to figure out what made Peter stop loving him, though. Maybe Tony didn’t spend enough time with him; that would certainly explain why he felt the need to go to someone else for sex. He must have been feeling neglected. 

Or maybe he’d come to his senses and realized that Tony was far too old for him, too jaded. And so, the kind boy that he was, he pretended that he was still happy with him, and quietly went searching for someone who could truly fulfill his needs. 

What did Molly have that he didn’t? What was he doing wrong?

He decided that he would do better. He would make Peter love him again, make him see that he didn’t need Molly. Tony could give him everything; he had never imagined telling him ‘no’ to begin with.

So, to start off his attempts at being better, he snuck to the kitchen half an hour before Peter was due to wake up and made him breakfast. He placed his - only slightly burned - omelet on a silver tray, before filling up a mug with coffee and adding it too. Looking around the kitchen, he spotted a bowl of red apples, a couple of which he cut up before placing them onto the tray. He carried the tray to their bedroom, leaving it on his nightstand before crawling over to Peter and straddling his waist.

He started bending down to kiss him, but hovered over his lips, unsure. Had Peter kissed Molly before? It didn’t matter, he decided, and closed the distance between them. Whether he’d kissed her or not, Peter was his, first. That had to give him some kind of claim on his kisses.

Peter came to in a matter of seconds, smiling against Tony’s lips and pulling him closer, so that they were laying chest-to-chest. Tony pulled away reluctantly, muttering to Peter, “I made you breakfast in bed.”

Peter’s eyes opened in surprise, “You didn’t have to.” 

He did. He really, really had to.

“I know,” Tony reached over to the nightstand and picked up the tray, climbing off of Peter so that he could rest the tray on his stomach, “I wanted to surprise you.” 

“And it’s edible?” a teasing smile flickered on Peter’s lips.

A new insecurity wormed its way into Tony. Was it his cooking that had Peter looking for a different partner? Was Molly a good cook? 

“It’s edible,” Tony confirmed, uncharacteristically quiet.

Peter picked up an apple slice and nudged it against Tony’s mouth, saying, “You need to eat, too.” 

Tony accepted it with no complaints, chewing on the fruit as he watched Peter take his first bite of the omelet. 

“What do you think?” Tony asked tentatively.

Peter blew him a kiss. “It’s amazing. Thank you, Tony.” 

“Anything for you, sweetheart,” Tony reminded, and hoped that his eyes conveyed just how much he meant that. 

Peter grinned and set his fork down, taking hold of Tony’s arms to pull him into a hug. Tony moved the tray onto the sheets and took its place, settling on Peter’s lap and slinging his arms over his shoulders. He tucked his head into the crook of Peter’s neck, sighing contentedly. 

Step one to getting Peter to love him again seemed to have been a success. 

“Do we have everything we need for tomorrow?” Tony asked later that day, when they were all eating lunch. 

“Yes, Daddy,” Morgan nodded excitedly, “Do you think the firefighters will let me be one too when they see my costume?” 

“Maybe when you’re older,” Tony told her, wiping absentmindedly at the sauce on her chin with his sleeve, before a new thought struck him. 

Did Peter not love him anymore because of how gross he was? Parenthood had made him lose a lot of his inhibitions, after all. The penthouse was often messy and cluttered, because no one could find the time to properly clean it up. Maybe he should hire a house cleaning service. In addition to that, he’d stopped feeling disgusted by many of the bodily fluids that would have had him reeling back in the past. Having a child did that to a person. 

Hopefully, Peter would understand that, and wouldn’t hold it against him. 

Halloween came the next day, and with it, a lot of impatience on Morgan’s part. Seeing as it was a Sunday, none of them had work or school, and so Morgan was ready to go trick-or-treating at the crack of dawn. She came running in before either Tony or Peter were awake, bouncing on their bed until they woke up.

Another thought had his chest tightening in a matter of seconds. Was there a chance that Peter had stopped loving him because of Morgan? Perhaps he was tired of having his sleep interrupted by a skittish child. Or he’d changed his mind entirely about being a parent, and hadn’t had the heart to tell him.

“Daddy, get up!” Morgan whined, pulling at him with all her might, “We’re not gonna get any candy if we’re late.”

“People trick-or-treat in the evenings, Morgan,” Peter told her, hiding his head under his pillow in an attempt to fall back asleep. 

“Oh,” Morgan stopped pulling, “But I wanna trick-or-treat now.” 

“Nobody’s handing out candy yet,” Tony said, unwillingly climbing out of bed before telling Peter, “You can keep sleeping, Pete. I’ll take care of her.” 

There was no way he was making Peter do anything he didn’t have to - not now that he was trying to get Peter to see that he was a competent lover. He could do everything Molly did, and more. 

It didn’t matter to him if Peter loved Molly; it did, really, but he was trying to convince himself that it didn’t. As long as he still loved Tony partially, still lived with him, didn’t make it a point to show that he’d been with Molly, Tony would push down his hurt and his anger. And no hickeys. If Tony had to see any evidence of Molly’s presence...well, he wasn’t sure what he’d do, but it wouldn’t be anything good.

He knew that the right thing to do in this situation was to end their relationship. To kick Peter out, to cut ties with him completely, and try to explain to Morgan that her papa wasn’t hers after all. But Tony couldn’t stomach even the idea of doing any of that. He needed Peter in his life, would fall apart completely without him, and that wasn’t something he could do for both his own sake and Morgan’s. 

So, yes, he would ignore the pain and anger and betrayal. For himself and for his daughter. 

They went trick-or-treating that evening, Morgan in her firefighter costume and Tony and Peter in their matching vampire costumes. Everything was going great. Morgan’s plastic pumpkin was almost completely filled up with candy, Peter was pointing out every cool costume and decoration they walked past, and Tony was just about managing not to stare at all the women in their vicinity, wondering which one was the one Peter was seeing behind his back. 

The greatness of it all faded when they crossed paths with a woman in a sultry devil costume, clutching the hand of a little girl dressed as a dragon. 

The woman spotted them first, walking their way with a beaming smile on her painted lips, “Peter!” 

Tony recognized her immediately. Her picture had burned its way into his brain, leaving behind a scalding mark. This was Molly - the woman Peter loved more than him, the woman that had managed to capture his attention in a way that Tony seemingly couldn’t. 

“Oh, hey, Molly,” Peter greeted her, tucking Morgan away from the road and into his side, ensuring that she wouldn’t run away in search of more candy.

“You didn’t text me back,” Molly pouted, her lashes fluttering ever so slightly. 

_Yeah_ , Tony thought smugly, _because he’d deleted both the nude and the text while Peter was asleep._

“I didn’t get any texts, sorry,” Peter apologized, before turning and tugging Tony forward by the hand, “This is Tony, my boyfriend.” 

“Nice to meet you,” Tony said curtly.

“Oh,” Molly eyed him in disdain, “Nice to meet you too.” 

She looked back to Peter, inching closer to place a delicate hand on his bicep. Tony had to physically restrain the urge to slap her hand off, moving instead to subtly lean into Peter’s side, getting in the way of her hand and forcing her to move back. 

“Do you think we could join groups?” she asked Peter, completely ignoring Tony, “We’ve still got a while to go until Tia’s satisfied with how much candy she got.”

“We’re done, actually,” Tony cut in, glaring at her, “We’re on our way home now.” 

“We are?” Peter furrowed his eyebrows, before finally taking the hint, “Oh, yeah, we are. Sorry, Molly.”

“It’s okay,” Molly stood on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on Peter’s cheek, staining it with her red lipstick, “Make sure to call me later.” 

Peter watched her leave with wide eyes, surprise etched on his face. He rubbed at the lipstick on his cheek, annoyed when it smeared onto his hand. Tony seethed, starting the walk back home with Morgan and Peter trailing behind him. 

The _nerve_ of that woman. It was fine, really. Tony would just make sure to send Peter off with a bruised and bitten neck the next time he had to see her. 

When they came home, Peter went to the bathroom to rinse off the lipstick, which had Tony feeling slightly gratified. Tony left their home a couple of hours after they returned, his costume still in place, as he was heading to the Avengers’ Halloween party. He made sure to give Peter several kisses before he left, hoping that they would be enough to keep him from calling Molly while he was gone. 

When he came home from the party, he was beyond drunk, falling out of the elevator and onto the living room floor. Peter scurried towards him, lifting him off of the ground and into his arms. 

“Tony,” Peter sighed, carrying him to their bedroom, “Why’d you drink so much?”

There went all his progress; he’d disappointed Peter again. He curled closer to Peter, holding onto him tightly in hopes that the embrace would somehow make up for his mistakes.

“I really hope you didn’t drive home,” Peter said, setting him gently on the bed. 

Tony’s focus blurred out then, and all he saw was the silhouette of a man in the dark shadows of the room, whose hands were now pulling Tony’s pants down. Tony slapped at his hands blindly, squirming away from them. 

“You can’t have sex with me,” Tony told the figure tenaciously, “I’m in a relationship.” 

“I’m not trying to have sex with you,” the man said, “I just need to get you comfortable so you can sleep.” 

Tony didn’t hear him, though, and kept babbling, “Though maybe I should let you. It’s not like my boyfriend loves me anymore. You know he’s fucking someone else?”

The hands stilled at the hem of Tony’s shirt, which they had been preparing to take off. 

“I really thought this one would last,” Tony said mournfully, “But I don’t want to break up with him. I don’t care that he’s cheating on me. I mean, I do care, but at least this way, he’s still here with me. I’m okay with sharing if it means I can still have him. I’ll make myself okay with it, anyway.” 

The hands dropped his shirt then, too shaky to keep holding on.

“I just love him so much,” Tony cried, “I really thought he loved me too.” 

With that, the haze grew stronger, surrounding Tony and swallowing him up. 

He fell asleep.


	19. Chapter 19

Tony’s head was pounding when he woke up. He gripped it with slow hands, groaning when the warmth of his skin only aggravated him further. He reluctantly opened his eyes and looked around the room. Peter was gone, but he didn’t panic. The distant sounds of the radio and the murmur of Peter’s voice let him know that everything was fine. He sat up slowly, pushing the too-warm comforter away, and swung his legs so that he was sitting on the side of the bed. On the nightstand, he spotted two white pills next to a tall glass of water, which had five ice cubes floating around in the clear liquid. 

“You’re a saint, Petey,” Tony praised the empty room, swallowing the pills with a practiced ease he loathed to have. 

He got up and lumbered to the kitchen, where Peter was leaning against the island and texting someone, thumbs flying across the screen at a speed Tony could never hope to rival. Tony shuffled closer and caged Peter between his arms, trapping him between the counter and his chest. He pressed three kisses in succession onto his bare right shoulder before resting his chin on it, instead. 

“Morning, Pete,” he greeted softly, “Uh, I wanted to apologize for coming home so drunk.” 

Tony didn’t need to look at him to know that his lips were curving into an amused smile.

“Well?” Peter hedged, “Where’s the apology?”

“I’m sorry,” Tony said earnestly.

There was a time where he would’ve been kicking and screaming at the mere notion of having to apologize. Though it was him that had to do the apologizing, he quite liked the change. It went hand in hand with some of that “be a better person” shit that Pepper would always go on about. 

Peter turned in his arms, facing him and looping his own around Tony’s neck. “It’s okay. I hope you had fun.” 

“The party was alright,” Tony admitted, “It was nice to catch up with everyone. Would’ve been nicer if you were there, though.” 

“Maybe next time,” Peter shrugged, and the smile slipped off of his face, “There’s something I need to talk to you about.” 

Tony’s eyes widened, dread cooling his skin and sending his mind into a flurry. Peter couldn’t be breaking up with him. Not now, not when they were happy and having a nice morning. He’d thought that he’d have more time with Peter before he left him to be with Molly. 

“Could we table that?” Tony pleaded, his hold on Peter tightening, “We should have breakfast first. I’ll make it for you, honey, you can just sit down and look pretty.” 

Peter sighed heavily, his hands coming up to rub Tony’s biceps soothingly. “No. I think we should talk now.” 

“I have to get to work though,” Tony checked the time on the oven, “I’m already late.” 

“I called you in sick,” Peter said calmly, “I knew you wouldn’t be waking up on time with how drunk you got.” 

“Oh,” Tony’s shoulders sagged as his last opportunity to escape disappeared, “Thanks, Pete.” 

Peter acknowledged the thanks with a nod before taking a deep breath and saying, “You said something last night, when you came home from the party.” 

“What did I say?” Tony asked warily. 

“You said something about how I,” Peter paused, hesitantly braving on after a few seconds, “don’t love you anymore and am cheating on you.” 

Tony paled rapidly. Now that Peter was aware that Tony knew of his affair, he would leave him. Tony was sure of it. 

‘Well, it’s true, isn’t it?” Tony spat bitterly. “What did I do wrong, Pete? Tell me how to fix it. I’ll do anything.” 

Peter’s mouth fell open. “I’m not cheating on you! Why would you even think that?” 

“Why wouldn’t I think that?” Tony asked in turn, “You put a fucking heart in her contact name. That’s not normal.” 

“She’s the one who put the heart in,” Peter said defensively.

“Then why didn’t you change it?” Tony challenged. 

Peter faltered then. “I don’t know, it just didn’t bother me. I can get rid of the heart, if you want.”

“I do want,” Tony snapped, “Why were you talking to her at one am? Why was she sending you nudes?” 

“She’s the one who called me, I told you that,” Peter fought back, “And what are you even talking about? She never sent me any nudes.”

Tony scowled. “She did. I deleted them because I didn’t want you jerking off with them.” 

“You went through my phone?” Peter asked darkly, his expression furious.

“Can you blame me?” Tony threw his hands up, “You had just gotten off the phone with her - at one am, in case you need me to say it again - and she was texting you. What the hell was I supposed to think?” 

Peter picked his phone up from the counter and tossed it at him, snarling, “Go through every text I’ve ever sent to her, then. That seems to be something you’re good at.” 

He stormed out of the kitchen, muttering angrily under his breath, and eventually he got far enough that Tony couldn’t hear him. 

Tony stared down at the phone in his hands. Slowly, he unlocked the phone and went to Peter's messages, scrolling up to the very first time Molly had texted him. As he went through all of their texts, he noted that Molly’s hints weren’t subtle at all, though Peter seemed to be oblivious to every single one.

He never reciprocated the flirting, spoke openly and fondly of both Morgan and Tony, made no effort to hide their existence. There were no nudes sent by either person, meaning the one that Molly sent a couple of days ago had been the first. 

They could have been communicating in a different way - Peter was a smart guy, he could’ve easily hidden something like that from Tony. But Tony knew, deep down, that he’d severely misjudged the situation. 

Hot shame curled up in his gut. He’d messed up badly. This was a lot worse than coming home drunk. 

When Peter came back to the kitchen, he was fully dressed and had his book bag with him. He snatched his phone out of Tony’s hands and pocketed it, striding out of the kitchen without stopping to give Tony his usual goodbye kiss. 

“I’m going to class,” Peter said snarkily, “Figured I’d let you know in case you’ve been wondering if I lie about my whereabouts too.” 

Yeah, Tony fucked up.

He followed Peter to the elevator but didn’t enter it, saying quietly, “Have a good day. I love you.” 

He waited for Peter’s response with bated breath. In Tony’s mind, it would make or break their relationship. 

Peter’s face softened slightly. “I love you too. Even though you’re pretty stupid sometimes.” 

The elevator doors slid shut, and Peter was gone. 

It was Tony’s turn to pick up Morgan from school, so at three o’clock he found himself standing outside of the gates and waiting for his little girl to come out. Just as the kids started spilling out of their classrooms, he felt someone walk up and stand next to him.

“Peter’s not here?” the person asked, and Tony grit his teeth, identifying the person immediately. 

He turned to Molly, not bothering to hide his dislike. “He’s in class.” 

“That’s a shame,” Molly sighed, walking away from him now that she’d received an answer to her question. 

Tony glared at her retreating back, muttering to himself, “You know what else would be a shame? If someone pushed you off of a cliff.” 

He watched Morgan walk through the school gates and opened his arms, prepared for her to barrel into them. She jumped onto him, her backpack falling to the ground, and Tony held her with one arm, the other picking up the bag from the ground. 

“Hi, Daddy,” Morgan squealed, “Guess what? Ms. Macy said we won’t have school for a whole week!” 

“That’s right,” Tony confirmed, “Fall Break is coming up. It’s really for Thanksgiving, but they’ve changed the name. A bit pretentious, if you ask me. It’s in a couple of weeks.” 

“Okay,” Morgan climbed off of him and held onto his hand as they crossed the parking lot to the car, “Are we going home?”

“No, Morgan,” Tony winced, “I did something bad and Papa is mad at me, so we’re going to go find a gift for him.” 

“What did you do?” Morgan squinted at him suspiciously from her car seat, “Papa never gets mad. Even when I colored on his homework.”

Tony sighed, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot. “I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

“All grown ups say that,” Morgan huffed. 

“That’s because little kids aren’t always ready to hear everything,” Tony told her. 

Morgan protested, “I’m ready.” 

Tony could sense the meltdown coming. He kept his eyes on the road and switched topics, hoping to distract her. 

“What do you think we should get Papa?” he asked her.

“We should go to Disneyland,” Morgan suggested cheerfully, “No one’s ever mad at Disneyland.” 

“No Disneyland,” Tony shook his head, “But you’re onto something there.”

“Can we get cupcakes, Daddy?” Morgan asked, trying to meet his eyes in the rearview mirror to entice him into agreeing. 

Tony thought about it. Peter would appreciate cupcakes a lot more than clothes or jewelry, and if Morgan wanted them too, he’d be killing two birds with one stone.

He smiled and said, “Now we’re talking.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here's the new update :)


	20. Chapter 20

Tony had only looked away from Morgan for a second. Okay, maybe two, but definitely not more than that. He’d been checking the schematics of a new version of the Spider-Man suit that he was building for Peter - a present for their six month anniversary; did Peter celebrate that? Maybe Tony was jumping the gun on that one - when he heard something fall in the kitchen.

He tossed the tablet onto the couch and hurried to the kitchen, trepidation spiking in his chest. His fears were confirmed when he found Morgan in front of the fridge, red frosting staining the skin around her mouth. The tray he’d meticulously stacked the cupcakes on earlier was on the ground, clearly having been what he’d heard fall, and the cupcakes that had been on it were smashed underneath. Only one had survived the plunge, and it was clenched in Morgan’s right hand, half of it already bitten off. 

“Morgan,” Tony fretted, doing his best to not sound angry, “You know you weren’t supposed to touch the cupcakes yet. We were going to surprise Papa first.”

Morgan stared at him with guilty eyes. “But Daddy, I wanted them now.” 

“That doesn’t matter,” Tony grumbled, picking up the tray from the ground with a passive aggressive swipe, “You’re supposed to listen to me when I tell you to do something.”

Morgan pouted. “Papa’s not gonna be home for forever! I didn’t want to wait.”

“Papa is going to be home in five minutes,” Tony corrected, “And now we’ll have nothing to give him.” 

“I’m sorry,” Morgan’s face fell. 

“You can prove it to me by cleaning up the mess you just made on the floor,” Tony pointed at the red frosting sticking to the tiles, the remnants of the cupcakes scattered on top. 

Morgan followed his gaze. “I don’t know how.” 

“I’ll teach you,” Tony flashed her a reassuring smile, “Next time, you’ll know how. But there better not be a next time, Morgan.” 

“Okay, Daddy,” Morgan agreed easily, “We gotta hurry! Papa’s gonna be mad if the kitchen is dirty.” 

Tony grimaced. Though he didn’t think Peter would be as upset as Morgan was suggesting, he wasn’t looking to give him more reasons to be angry at Tony. He had more than enough to make up for already. 

They had the frosting wiped off, the crumbs vacuumed, and the cupcake remains dumped into the trash can before Peter came home. There was only one incriminating piece of evidence: the bright mess on Morgan’s face, which they had been about to wash off before the elevator doors slid open with a ding. 

Morgan forgot about it entirely, dashing from the kitchen to greet Peter in the living room. Tony followed her at a much slower pace, frustrated that he hadn’t managed to clear Morgan’s face of the frosting. 

“What’s that on your face, Mo?” Peter collected a smidge of the sweet paste from her cheek, his tongue flicking out to taste the frosting that was now on his thumb. “Oh, yum. I love frosting.” 

“Hey, Pete,” Tony greeted, his nerves clearly audible in the slight shaking of his voice, “We got you some cupcakes, but Morgan got a little excited… We’ll get you new ones. I promise.” 

Peter gave him a lazy smile, seemingly having forgotten entirely about their earlier spat. Tony knew better than to believe that, but it lessened some of his fear, which he suspected was exactly what Peter’d been intending to do. With the illusion that Peter wasn’t angry in place, he smiled back at him.

“I have a better idea,” Peter cast an assessing eye on him as he said, “How about we bake the cupcakes instead?”

“Pete,” Tony started to protest, before the reality of the situation came back to the forefront of his mind, cutting off the rest of his argument. This was Peter’s way of testing him, testing just how sorry he was or wasn’t. Tony wasn’t a baker; he hated it more than anything, hated how messy everything got in the process, hated that there were hundreds of variations of the same recipe, rather than a single instruction sheet to follow. 

Peter raised his eyebrows. “What were you going to say, darling?” 

“Nothing,” Tony smiled tightly, “Baking sounds like a great idea.” 

Despite his reluctance, he was grateful for the olive branch that Peter had extended. He didn’t mind baking if it meant getting back in Peter’s good graces. 

They had FRIDAY pull up an easy-to-follow recipe that she found on the internet. After leaving it to float in the air as a hologram, they got to work. Peter took care of the batter while Tony worked to make frosting, Morgan creeping between them in an attempt to get a taste of both. Her hands were lightly swatted away from the bowls each time, until they finally decided to lure her out of the kitchen, using her new coloring book to keep her entertained in the living room. 

That left Peter and Tony on their own in the kitchen, working in tense and oddly companionable silence.

Tony couldn’t stand it anymore. “I’m sorry, Peter.” 

Peter started pouring the batter into the pan, saying distractedly, “You’re going to have to be more specific.” 

“I should have just talked to you as soon as I started to worry,” Tony professed shamefully, “I shouldn’t have snooped or jumped to conclusions.”

“Why didn’t you?” Peter crossed his arms, still turned away from him, “Why didn’t you talk to me?” 

Tony wouldn’t lie - couldn’t, really. Peter deserved better than that. 

“It felt like the other shoe had dropped,” Tony said slowly, trying to formulate his thoughts in a way that would make sense to Peter, “Kind of like, ‘of course he has someone else’. You’re too good for me to get to keep to myself. I didn’t like it, but I figured I would just deal with it.” 

He stayed quiet for a moment, and said:

“I didn’t want to lose you. So I didn’t say anything.” 

Peter turned to him, finally, a murderous glare fixed on his face. Tony shrank back. He’d probably said the wrong thing, then. Go figure. 

“I never want you to say that I’m too good for you,” Peter said viciously, “You deserve so much. And if I’m what you want, you can have me. You _have_ had me - for months now.” 

Tony blinked in surprise. That wasn’t what he’d been expecting to hear.

Peter continued to rant, taking advantage of his stunned silence, “And if I, for whatever stupid, insane reason, ever am unfaithful to you: leave me. That goes for any future partners you might have. You deserve unconditional, complete love, and nothing less than that.” 

Tony screwed his eyes shut, moving his head away from Peter, “God, did you add onions to that batter?” 

Soft hands came up to touch Tony’s face, the contact enough to shock him into opening his eyes again. 

“You’re such an idiot,” Peter told him fondly, “I love you.” 

Tony leaned into the touch, turning his head briefly to place a kiss onto each of Peter’s palms. He used his own to hold onto Peter’s waist, his grip firm and loose all at once. 

“I love you too,” Tony said truthfully, staring into Peter’s eyes and hoping that he could see that Tony really, truly meant it, more than he’d ever meant anything in his life.

“I know,” Peter’s lips quirked up, and then they were on Tony’s, moving with a tender care that perfectly matched the moment they were in. 

A beep alerted them that the oven was done heating up; the cupcakes could be put in now. They broke apart grudgingly, Peter leaving Tony’s side to turn off the alarm and slide the tray filled with batter into the oven. 

When the cupcakes finished baking, they called Morgan into the kitchen; she wanted to be the one to lather them with frosting and place the blue sprinkles on top. 

Tony steadied her where she was standing on a stepstool. “Try not to get anything on the counter, but if you do, it’s fine. You’ll just get to show off your new cleaning skills to Papa.” 

“Cleaning skills?” Peter looked impressed, “Wow, Morgan. Five years old and you already know how to clean?”

“A little bit,” Morgan preened at the praise, “Daddy started teaching me today.” 

“I’m proud of both of you,” Peter smiled at Tony teasingly, “I thought you’d just hire someone to pick up after her for the rest of her life.” 

“It was a good teaching moment,” Tony deflected, flushing a little at the pride directed his way. 

“I don’t doubt it.” 


	21. Chapter 21

“Baby,” Tony whispered, gently running his hands through Peter’s hair, “Do you want to go to Malibu?”

Peter picked his head up from the pillow, looking at him through drowsy eyes, “What?” 

“Do you want to go to Malibu?” Tony asked again, “Fall Break is next week.” 

“Isn’t it kinda last minute to be making plans now?” Peter wondered, taking hold of Tony’s arms to cuddle into them. 

Tony pressed a small kiss onto his head and said, “No. I have a private jet and a mansion in Malibu. We don’t need to make any reservations - unless you want to stay at a hotel. All we need to do is pack our things, and we don’t even have to do that. I can buy you a whole new wardrobe in Malibu.”

“Do not buy me any clothes,” Peter poked his chest to emphasize his point, “And didn’t your mansion blow up? I’m pretty sure I saw that on the news when I was younger.” 

“It did,” Tony sighed, his mind flashing back to the crumbling walls and loud explosions, “It wasn’t pretty. But I had it rebuilt after that.”

Peter drew comforting circles onto Tony’s chest with the pads of his fingers, hoping to distract him from his traumatic memories. “Let’s go to Malibu, then. I’ve never been, so you’ll have to show me around. Maybe we can go to the beach.” 

“We will absolutely go to the beach,” Tony threw him a filthy grin, “Do you really think I’d pass up the chance to see you shirtless?” 

Peter rolled his eyes, his fingers straightening to playfully slap Tony’s chest. “You see me shirtless every day.” 

“But I don’t see you shirtless and wet every day,” Tony pointed out.

“Who says I’ll swim?” Peter challenged, “Maybe I’ll just sunbathe.” 

“Sweetheart, I _know_ you’ll swim,” Tony said confidently, “And so will Morgan, which means you have to go in and watch her, even if you weren’t already planning to swim. I’ll just lie on the beach and look pretty, give you something to stare at.” 

“It’s the beach. There will be plenty of pretty things - and people - to stare at.” 

Tony narrowed his eyes, “You better not. I did not work on my abs for you to go and look at someone else’s.” 

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” Peter laughed, “But you know I’d love you without the abs too, right?” 

“I do,” Tony smiled gently, “But I’ll admit it’s nice to have confirmation. I’m getting a little flabby in my old age.” 

“Flabby?” Peter repeated dubiously, “You’re still in your prime.” 

Tony kissed him then, not pulling away until his chest started tightening uncomfortably from the lack of air. “I’m glad you think so.” 

“Boss,” FRIDAY interrupted, “Morgan is awake and is asking to have cake for breakfast.” 

Tony snorted. “Tell her that her teeth will fall out if she has cake, and that my answer is no.” 

“I guess we should get up,” Peter reluctantly slid out of Tony’s tight grasp, “We have to get her ready for school.”

Tony followed him out of their bed, saying, “At least this is the last day before the break. I hate waking up so early.” 

When they finished taking care of their personal hygiene and went to the kitchen, they found Morgan sitting at the table in her personally handpicked outfit of the day. She was clad in a light yellow dress with brown alpacas printed all over it, her feet already placed in her velcro shoes.

“We should start teaching her how to tie shoelaces,” Peter told Tony, “I think we might be at the point where she can start transitioning to sneakers. Not sure, though.” 

“I’ll look it up later,” Tony kissed his cheek and joined Morgan at the table, proclaiming, “Don’t you look wonderful today, Morguna.” 

“Thanks, Daddy,” Morgan swung her feet cheerfully, “Can we have cake? Pretty please?” 

“I’m sure FRIDAY already told you what my answer to that question is,” Tony raised his eyebrows, nudging a bowl of fruit in her direction, trying to prompt her into eating. 

“You’re lame,” Morgan huffed, sliding off of her chair to sidle up to Peter, who was making some toast nearby, “Papa? Can we have cake?” 

“You know, I was considering saying yes,” Peter lied, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, “But you were mean to Daddy, so no.” 

Morgan wilted, bearing a striking resemblance to a dying flower in that moment. 

“Where did you learn the word ‘lame’?” Tony chimed in. 

“A boy in my class said it,” Morgan said sourly, getting back in her chair with a pout on her face. 

“Do you know what it means?” Peter asked, sitting down next to Tony to display that they were a united front.

Morgan nodded silently.

Tony followed up with his own question. “And do you know that it can hurt people’s feelings?” 

The little girl nodded again. 

“Then why did you say it?”

“Because I was upset,” Morgan mumbled.

“Being upset doesn’t mean that you should make others feel upset, too,” Peter took her hand in his, “It’s okay to feel upset. It’s not okay to call others bad names.” 

“We said no to cake because it’s not healthy to have all the time,” Tony added, “If we could just eat anything we wanted, we wouldn’t fit through the doors in our home.” 

Morgan smiled a little at the last sentence. “Okay. I’m sorry, Daddy. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” 

She crawled into his lap, resting her head on his broad shoulder, and her smile turned more broad when he said, “I forgive you, honey. But I don’t want you saying bad words like that again.”

Breakfast went by without any additional drama. When Peter packed Morgan’s lunch for school, he slipped one of the cupcakes they’d baked into her lunch bag. It wasn’t quite a cake, but they were really the same thing. He figured that she’d learned her lesson and that letting her have one with her lunch was more appropriate than giving it to her for breakfast, anyway.

Tony got off of work earlier than usual that day, claiming that he had no more patience for his ‘moronic employees that can’t even get coffee without spilling it’ and that he ‘missed his family and wanted to see them sooner’. So, he and Peter went to pick up Morgan from school together, and were met at the gates by Molly.

“Peter!” the woman threw herself at the aforementioned man, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

Tony stamped down the hot anger trying to rise out of his chest. Before he could yank her off of his boyfriend, Peter delicately pried her off himself.

“Molly, hi,” Peter greeted her with a slight grimace, “So, um, I’ve only just realized that you’ve been trying to-”

“Seduce him,” Tony cut in, irritated. 

“-and I wanted to let you know that I’m flattered, but I’m committed to Tony and not interested in starting anything with anyone else.” Peter finished. 

Molly blinked at him silently for a few seconds, taken aback. “Are you saying this because he’s here? Baby, I promise, we can still be together. You don’t have to lie to me.” 

“Please don’t call me that,” Peter cringed, “I don’t know what made you think that I’m interested, but I’m not.” 

Molly surged forward desperately, clutching at the lapels of his jacket, “Peter, come on, why don’t you spend the break with me and take the time to think about it? I think you’re acting rashly right now.” 

“Let go of him before I make you,” Tony sneered, his hand twitching reflexively towards the watch on his left wrist. 

“He doesn’t love you,” Molly growled at Tony, “He loves me, he does, he’s just not thinking clearly right now.” 

“Then where was he all these months?” Tony asked, spurring on before she could answer, “That’s right. He was in our home, in our bed, and in my arms.” 

“Tony,” Peter gave him a warning glance, “Please don’t antagonize her. Molly, I’m sorry, but I really don’t love you.” 

“You’ll realize what a mistake you’re making,” Molly said fiercely, “And when you do, you’ll come crawling right back.” 

She stormed off to the other side of the gates, opting to leave them where they were standing and wait for her daughter elsewhere. 

Tony and Peter exchanged relieved looks. 

“Good riddance,” Tony muttered, embracing the younger man. 

Peter hesitated, his good manners warring with genuine happiness, before settling on a simple: “Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you guys think? :)


	22. Chapter 22

They boarded one of Tony’s private jets as soon as they finished packing their bags. Tony and Morgan sat next to each other, Peter facing them from one of the seats across from theirs. A table stood in between their seats, successfully separating them, but it was put away by one of the flight attendants in preparation for takeoff. As soon as the plane reached its cruising altitude, Morgan unbuckled her seatbelt and slouched, relieved to have taken the slight pressure off of her abdomen. 

“Do either of you want anything to drink?” Tony asked his family, pulling out a small pamphlet to leaf through the menu options.

“Just water,” Peter requested, sending an appreciative smile his way. 

“Can I have juice, Daddy?” Morgan leaned into Tony’s side to join him in browsing the menu. 

Tony rubbed her shoulder, “Anything for my princess.” 

“If I’m a princess, then you’re a king,” Morgan declared.

Tony raised his eyebrows curiously. “Oh, really? What about Papa?”

“Papa is a queen,” Morgan told him, “Because you’re the boss of me but he’s the boss of you. And queens are cooler than kings.”

Tony barked out a startled laugh. “Papa’s not the boss of me. Nobody’s the boss of me.”

“Then why do you clean the toilets when he tells you to?” Morgan challenged. 

Tony’s shoulders slumped in defeat, “Because Papa’s scary when he’s mad. Fine, you win, Morguna. Papa’s in charge here. He’s the boss of me.” 

“I’m glad we’re all clear on that,” Peter finally joined their conversation, lips tugging upwards in amusement. 

“No comments from the peanut gallery,” Tony playfully wagged a finger in his direction. 

Morgan gasped, scandalized. “Did you tell Papa to shut up?”

“No, honey,” Tony said, leaning down to press a quick kiss onto her head, “Look, there’s the flight attendant with our drinks.”

“But we never ordered,” Peter voiced, features contorting to match the confusion he was feeling.

“That’s what you think, gorgeous,” Tony gestured at the tablet on the table, which had been lowered while they were speaking, “I ordered our drinks on here.”

“I probably shouldn’t feel so amazed by that,” Peter admitted. 

“I’m glad you are,” Tony slid his feet forward until they bumped into Peter’s, and hooked one of them around Peter’s ankles, initiating contact between them. “It makes it easier for me to impress you.” 

Peter grinned shyly, ducking his head to hide the blush that bloomed across his cheeks.

“Hi!” Morgan said to the flight attendant that approached their table, “My daddy and papa are being weird ‘cause they’re in love like in the movies. Do you have my juice?”

The three adults blinked at the abrupt subject change. The flight attendant - Katerina, her name tag read - recovered from her surprise first. 

She set her tray on the table and handed the glass of grape juice to Morgan, making sure she had a tight grip on it before letting go. She placed the water and coffee in front of Peter and Tony, respectively. 

“Would you like anything else?” Katerina picked the tray back up with a polite smile. 

“We’re okay, thank you,” Tony sipped at his coffee with a satisfied hum. 

They landed in LAX five hours later. By then, Morgan had fallen asleep, and Tony didn’t have the heart to wake her. Peter wordlessly picked her up, adjusting her until her head was comfortably resting on his shoulder. After going through the customs process, they stepped out of the airport and into the warm California air. A car was waiting for them already, Tony having called ahead, and the driver stepped out to help them put their luggage in the trunk. 

They spent an hour in traffic before they reached the mansion. The driver aided Tony in carrying the bags inside, as Peter’s arms were occupied with Morgan’s slumbering body and thus unable to contribute, before he left. Then they had the chance to settle in. 

They decided to let Morgan sleep the night away, as it was already approaching her bedtime, and she wouldn’t take kindly to being roused from her sleep at the moment. 

After leaving Morgan in her bed, Tony gave Peter a tour of the mansion and the territory. 

“I’ve got a private beach,” Tony said casually, draping an arm around his shoulders, “Do you want to go there tomorrow?”

Peter perked up. “Is that even a question? Yes. Absolutely. My skin is kind of pasty, anyway. I want to tan.”

“I love your pasty skin,” Tony cooed, his fingertips dancing along the back of Peter’s pale neck.

“So you’re not denying that it’s pasty?”

Tony paused. “Is this a trick question?”

“No,” Peter snorted, not bothering to hold back his laughter at the way Tony’s face relaxed. 

“Then yes,” Tony said unapologetically. 

They retreated to their bedroom after that, the jetlag making its presence known in the form of drooping eyes and fatigued movements. Any illusions they had of getting to sleep in were crushed when Morgan came in at eight in the morning, bouncing on their bed and chanting, “I’m bored. Get up!”

“Morgan, we’re trying to sleep,” Peter grunted, shoving his head under his pillow to block out her voice. 

“I’m bored!” she exclaimed again.

Tony snapped, “Stop jumping on the bed before I push you off of it.”

Morgan slowed to a stop, pouting, and crawled her way in between them. She managed to lay there silently for five minutes before she spoke up again. 

“I’m hungry,” she announced. 

“Sweetheart,” Tony nudged Peter’s back, “Can you go feed the gremlin? I’m too tired.” 

Peter sighed dramatically, pushing his pillow away and sitting up. “I’m sleeping in tomorrow and no one’s stopping me.” 

“You got it, Pete,” Tony promptly fell back asleep.

Peter grabbed Morgan’s ankles and lifted her up, carrying her upside down to the kitchen and eliciting high-pitched giggles from her mouth. He grinned and swung her carefully, righting her body once they reached the kitchen to prop her onto his hip. 

“What are we feeling today, Mo?” Peter asked her, opening the newly stocked pantry. 

“Toast,” Morgan wove her thin arms around his neck, “With butter and honey. It’s yummy. Mommy makes it like that.” 

Peter hummed, grabbing some sliced bread as he said, “I don’t know if I can make it like Mommy does, but I’ll try my best.”

“Thanks, Papa,” Morgan beamed, “Can we watch Frozen today?”

“Actually, Daddy and I have been thinking about going to the beach. Do you want to go?” Peter set her down to free the hand that had been holding onto her. Once she was safely on the ground, he pulled out a jar of honey and some butter. 

Morgan thought about it for a moment. “Can we watch Frozen after?” 

“Only if you make Daddy sing along to the songs,” Peter started buttering up the toast with a cheeky glint in his eyes. 

Morgan hugged his waist excitedly. “Deal!”

After Tony woke up and joined them for breakfast, they got dressed in their swimwear and started heading down to the beach next to the mansion. They set up their towels not too far from the water, just barely out of reach of the waves. Tony caught Morgan’s arm just as she tried to make a break for the ocean, tutting. 

“You can’t go in without an adult, Morgan, you know that,” he scolded, “And I still need to put some sunscreen on you.” 

Morgan fidgeted impatiently as Tony lathered thick layers of the protective cream onto every inch of exposed skin, to the point where she resembled a ghost more than she did a child.

“Tony,” Peter stifled a laugh, “I think you’re overdoing it.” 

Tony finally released her, letting her wander to the water with Peter at her heels. Peter turned to face him when they reached it, calling, “Are you sure you don’t want to come in?” 

“I told you,” Tony slid on his sunglasses, smirking, “I’m just here to look pretty.” 

He reclined in his lounger, watching them splash the water at each other. He tensed up a bit when they went deeper, Morgan perched on Peter’s shoulders to avoid drowning, but his worry was for naught. They waded back into shallower waters moments later, both perfectly fine, and he allowed himself to relax again and bask under the sun’s warm kisses.

Tony was startled out of his slight doze when a small, wet body clambered onto his, shivering and curling closer to soak up the warmth of his. His eyes shot open to see Morgan huddling under his chin, and he sighed, his plan to stay dry flying out of the window. He picked up the towel next to him and draped it over himself and Morgan, trapping the heat between his chest and the soft fabric of the towel. 

“Where’s Papa?” Tony muttered into her stringy hair. 

“He went back in the water,” she yawned cutely, tiredness clear as day on her face, “He said he wanted to go deeper.” 

Tony’s eyes darted over to the water, panic stirring in his gut. He could somewhat make out Peter among the waves, but the unknowing of it all, the fact that he wasn’t completely sure, was ringing alarm bells in his head. 

He was as stiff as a board for the next ten minutes, keeping track of all of Peter’s movements, and ready to jump into the water at any moment to potentially save him from - what? Drowning? A shark attack? His mind was drawing up all sorts of scenarios, but he pushed them aside and kept his focus on watching Peter.

Peter was walking out of the water and towards him after that, a blinding grin on his face, and Tony hated having to be the one to wipe it away, but he had to make his point clear.

“Parker,” Tony hissed quietly, trying not to wake Morgan from her nap, “You can’t just go swimming like that without telling me.” 

“Why not?” Peter narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t liking how controlling those words sounded.

Tony’s eyes widened in disbelief. “‘Why not’? Did you not see how deep that was? You could’ve been killed.” 

The fire in Peter’s chest died down at the words. This wasn’t Tony trying to be controlling. This was fear. 

“I’m okay, darling,” Peter said soothingly, using the term of endearment to soften him up further - he rarely called Tony anything other than his name, so using a nickname of some kind always got him to calm down, without fail. “I’m a pretty good swimmer. And I’m sure I could fight off any sharks. Being in Malibu doesn’t mean I’m not Spider-Man.” 

“That’s not funny,” Tony groused, his distress mostly gone now.

“It wasn’t meant to be funny,” Peter straddled his legs, joining him and Morgan so that they were all on the same lounger, “I’m sorry. I’ll warn you next time.” 

“I would appreciate that,” Tony sighed, leaning over Morgan’s head to catch his mouth in his own. 

Peter’s lips were salty from the water, which Tony wouldn’t have usually minded, except they were a little gritty, too - no doubt from the sand. He pulled away with a disgruntled expression. 

“I’m not kissing you again until you’ve showered,” Tony told him. 

Peter flashed him a charming smile. “We’ll see about that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry for the wait. I wanted to let you guys know that I'm on tumblr under the same name, @starkerscoop, in case you guys want to find me, reach out, talk, etc. I'm on there daily, so if you ever do reach out, for whatever reason, I can guarantee a fast response. I'm going to use this as an opportunity to also say: my offer to talk does extend to "therapy". I'm not a therapist by any means, but what I mean by that is that I'm always willing to listen if you need someone to rant to or talk about your problems to. You wouldn't be bothering me at all, I promise. And if you're too scared to message me? My anon asks are on.


	23. Chapter 23

“Morgan, come on, you have to take a shower,” Tony shut the door to the bathroom and locked it, in case she tried to run away. 

Morgan stomped her sand-covered foot on the tiled floor, smearing the sand across the previously clean surface. “I want to take a bath!” 

“We don’t have time for a bath,” Tony said, not for the first time, “Your bedtime is in ten minutes.” 

“Then I want Papa to wash me,” she pouted, now looking for any excuse to be upset. 

Tony rolled his eyes. “That’s fine. I’ll let him know.” 

He opened the door and called out, “Pete! Can you come wash Morgan?” 

Peter joined them in the bathroom a minute later, looking confused and just a tad frustrated. “You said you’d do it, Tony. You know I’m unpacking our bags right now.” 

“Try telling that to her,” Tony gestured at their daughter, who was starting to shiver, her damp bathing suit not doing her any favors in her attempts at warming up.

Peter noticed. “I’ll wash her. Can you finish taking care of the bags for me?” 

“Of course,” Tony kissed his cheek on his way out of the bathroom, “Sorry, honey. She wasn’t listening.” 

“It’s fine,” Peter waved off his apology and turned on the shower. 

Peter helped Morgan peel off her bathing suit and ushered her into the hot spray of water blasting from the showerhead, wanting to warm her up before she got sick. He rinsed off the sand clinging to her body, snorting when he found a strand of seaweed clinging to her butt. 

“Why were you being so difficult for Daddy, huh?” Peter asked playfully, careful to keep any hints of reproach out of his voice. He didn’t want her to grow up thinking she was ‘difficult’. He knew just how big of an impact words could have. 

Morgan giggled. “Because it’s funny.” 

“Let’s take it easy on Daddy, okay?” Peter massaged some shampoo into her hair, “He’s tired. And we want to make things easier for people when they’re tired - not harder.” 

“Okay, Papa,” Morgan turned when he nudged her shoulder, giving him access to the hair he couldn’t reach, “Should I say sorry?” 

“If you want to,” Peter smiled gently, “I bet you’re tired too, so you were cranky, and that’s okay. But Daddy might appreciate an apology.” 

Morgan nodded decisively. “I’m gonna say sorry.” 

Peter didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to - his pride had him glowing, and the smile he directed Morgan’s way spoke volumes. 

When they were done with the shower, Peter wrapped Morgan in a towel and carried her to her bedroom, too enamoured with how cute she looked engulfed in the fluffy towel to put her down. He got her dressed in her Shrek themed pajamas and tucked her in with minimal protests from Morgan, who seemed too exhausted to get dressed on her own. 

He switched on the Tinkerbell night light on her dresser and went to leave the room. The door was nearly shut behind him when he heard Morgan say something. 

“Sorry, Mo, I couldn’t hear you,” he entered the room again, “What did you say?”

Morgan was sitting up in bed, the blanket pooling around her waist. “I need to say sorry to Daddy.” 

“You can tell him tomorrow,” Peter promised. 

Morgan looked disappointed at his answer - and maybe scared? Though that didn’t make sense to him, so he figured he was imagining it - so he blew her a kiss to cheer her up before he left. 

When he got to his and Tony’s room, he found the man asleep on the made bed, still dressed in the clothes he’d been wearing all day. Peter snickered fondly, turning him over to take off his clothes. He left Tony in his boxers and pulled the blanket over him, before sliding in to lie down next to him. 

Just as he started falling asleep, his eyelids growing heavier and heavier by the second, a quiet knock sounded from the other side of the door. He strained his ears, trying to see if he’d imagined the noise; the sound of a familiar heartbeat reached him, and he clambered out of bed to open the door. 

Morgan stared up at him from the hallway, terrified. “Papa, I’m scared.” 

Peter immediately picked her up, letting her cuddle into his chest as his metaphorical hackles were raised. He made a gesture towards one of FRIDAY’s sensors, silently ordering her to scan the property for any intruders. 

“Why are you scared, Mo?” Peter asked in a hushed voice, mindful of the man sleeping behind him. 

“The house makes a lot of weird noises,” she sniffled, “It’s alive. I don’t want it to eat me.” 

Peter relaxed, but didn’t rectify the order he made to FRIDAY. It was always better to be safe than sorry. 

“The house isn’t alive. You’re used to the city. The honking and the wind, things like that. It’s not the penthouse making all that noise - it’s the cars and wind. But here, things are a little different. You’re hearing animals, and the ocean, or maybe even a tree that’s scratching your window. The house is not alive, Morgan, I promise.” Peter rubbed her back with one hand, using the other to continue holding her. 

The girl in question didn’t look like she completely believed him, but her eyes weren’t as frantic as they were earlier, so he counted it as a win. 

“It still sounds scary, though,” Morgan whined, her grip on his shirt tightening, “Can I sleep with you and Daddy? I don’t wanna be alone.” 

Peter got back in bed, sandwiching her between himself and Tony. “Of course, Mo.”

Tony was the first one up the next morning. He rolled over to look at Peter - he wasn’t a creep, okay, Peter just looked especially handsome in his sleep - and was greeted with a faceful of Morgan’s hair. He blinked in surprise, not having expected to see her in his and Peter’s bed, but shook himself out of his shock and took her hair out of his mouth. 

“I guess we had another slumber party,” Tony murmured to himself, his lips curving up in a lazy grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this one's short, I wanted to just get it posted and stop worrying about it


	24. Chapter 24

“Tony, wake up,” Peter switched on the lights, striding over to the bed to yank the blankets off of his boyfriend. 

Tony shivered as the sudden cold shocked him awake. He cracked his eyes open to glance at the windows, before turning back to Peter, unimpressed.

“It’s still dark out,” he grumbled, “Why the hell did you wake me up so early?” 

“I was hoping we could go stargaze,” Peter crouched next to the bed, leaning on Tony’s chest with a sanguine expression. 

Tony groaned. He didn’t have the heart to deny Peter anything, and it would cost him his sleep, but telling him ‘no’ was equivalent to kicking a puppy, so he supposed he was doing the right thing by sitting up and getting dressed. 

“What about Morgan?” Tony asked, stilling his movements, “I don’t feel comfortable leaving her here alone. Even if we’re only going to the backyard.” 

“I was thinking about waking her up so she could join us,” Peter mentioned, “But I don’t want to disrupt her sleep. She’ll be exhausted tomorrow.” 

“We could bring her out with us,” Tony offered, zipping up his jacket and opening the door to the bedroom, “She can keep sleeping. We’ll just be quiet.” 

“Sounds good,” Peter followed him down the hall to Morgan’s room, watching with a small smile as Tony scooped her up with her blanket, keeping her snuggled in it as they went outside. 

Peter laid down the blanket he’d found in the linen closet, waiting for Tony to set Morgan on it before lying down on Tony’s other side. Tony slung an arm around his shoulders, cushioning his head, and pressed a kiss onto his forehead before relaxing. 

The stars above them winked periodically, their silver hue reflecting in their eyes. Occasionally, an airplane would fly by, its quiet hush more reminiscent of New York City than the rest of their surroundings. Crickets chirped nearby, but the noise was barely audible with the serene waves of the ocean, which were moving back and forth not even a mile away. 

“Pete?” Tony spoke up quietly, careful not to tarnish the peaceful atmosphere.

“Yeah?” 

“What are your plans for the future?”

“To graduate and get a job. That’s it, really. Why?” 

Tony hesitated. “Just something Pepper brought up a while ago.” 

Peter turned to face him, his nose close enough to brush against Tony’s cheek, and Tony felt it when he inhaled before asking, “What did she say?”

“She was talking about the possibility of you moving to another state or country for work. It was when Morgan broke her arm, and she wanted to talk to me after - you remember that? She thought I’d move with you if that happened. I said it was something we’d talk about when the time came.” Tony explained, fiddling with Peter’s fingers to keep his nerves at bay.

Peter huffed out a small laugh, shaking his head. “Tony, I’m always going to be a New Yorker. I have never once in my life thought about leaving. The city is my home.” 

“Oh, thank fuck,” Tony blew out a relieved sigh, “I don’t know what I would have done if you needed to move, to be honest.” 

“Lucky for you, you don’t need to worry about it,” Peter curled closer, tucking his head under Tony’s chin. 

Tony hid his smile in the mop of curls tickling his face. “I do have other questions about your future.” 

“Hit me,” Peter murmured, eyes focused on the sky again.

“Never,” Tony said honestly, snorting at his own joke, “Where do you see us in five years? Still together?” 

Peter’s face reddened. “Married, maybe.” 

Underneath him, Tony stopped breathing, warranting several worried looks from Peter. He started breathing again when Peter poked him, but his chest still felt tight.

“You want to marry me?” Tony uttered, staring at him intently. 

“I mean, some day,” Peter said shyly, “I’ve been in love with you for years.” 

Tony couldn’t say that he was against the idea. He’d been in love with Peter for quite a while; it was one of the many reasons his marriage with Pepper had failed. It had taken him years and years to propose to Pepper, and it hadn’t been worth it in the end. But Tony didn’t want to wait that long with Peter. He didn’t want to wait at all. 

He wanted their happily ever after to start now. 

Tony’s grin widened. “Want to do something crazy?” 

“Tony, we’ve only been together for six months,” Peter’s eyes widened, excitement and apprehension clashing in them. 

“We’ve known each other for almost a decade now,” Tony pointed out, “And I’m an eccentric billionaire. I have to live up to my reputation somehow, honey.” 

“Well, if it’s for your rep,” Peter said teasingly, “Why not? But you have to ask me properly.” 

Tony beamed, twisting them around so that their positions were swapped, and attacking Peter’s face with kisses. Peter laughed openly, tilting his head back, and Tony pressed one final kiss to his nose before pulling away and resting his forehead on Peter’s. 

“Peter Parker,” Tony said slowly, peering into his soul, “Will you marry me?” 

Peter’s smile was wobbly, his overwhelming happiness evident in the tears that shone in his eyes. “Yes.”

They stayed on that blanket for the rest of the night, kissing and cuddling, watching the dark inky sky melt away to reveal one that was much more bright. The sun rose in a kaleidoscope of colors, pinks and reds and purples intertwining among the clouds, and Morgan joined them in the festivities when the clock struck nine. 

They were happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't get the wordcount up to even 1000, but hey, at least I updated


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please check the new tags before reading this chapter.

“Morgan, can you sit down please?” Tony beckoned her to his side and she obeyed, crawling onto her bed to sit next to him. “I think we need to have an important discussion.” 

“What?” Morgan watched him with expectant eyes.

“Are you okay with me marrying Papa?” Tony asked seriously, “I love him, but you’re my daughter and it’s important to me that you feel comfortable with this. If you don’t want me to marry him, I need to know now.” 

“What does ‘marrying’ mean?” Morgan wondered.

“It just means that Papa and I will be together forever, and we can officially be a family.” Tony explained carefully. He didn’t want Morgan to get the wrong idea about marriage.

“I thought we were already a family,” Morgan’s face scrunched up.

“We are,” he nodded in agreement, “It’s just that, with marriage, the government will know that we are, too. And Papa could have the same last name as us, if he wants it.” 

“Okay,” Morgan brightened, “I want you to get married! When is it happening?”

Tony tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, relieved that she wasn’t upset. “I’m not sure yet.” 

He left Morgan to get dressed after that, and joined Peter in the kitchen. 

“We should go out and celebrate,” Tony dropped a kiss onto Peter’s shoulder as he walked past him and towards the coffee maker.

Peter pulled out a mug and handed it to him. “Where do you want to go?” 

“Somewhere fancy,” Tony wiggled his eyebrows, “I’ll handle the check. And we could go ring shopping after.” 

“We don’t have to have engagement rings,” Peter reminded him, though he couldn’t deny that he wanted one. 

Tony immediately shook his head, grinning. “How else am I supposed to let everyone know that you’re marrying me?” 

“I’d love to go out with you and go shopping,” Peter conceded easily, “But I don’t think Morgan would want to eat anything at a fancy restaurant.” 

Tony turned off the coffee machine and raised the filled mug to his lips. “We’re not bringing her.” 

“We can’t leave her alone,” Peter admonished. 

“We’re not going to,” Tony soothed quickly, “We’re getting her a babysitter.” 

Peter’s face whitened. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

Tony looked at him weirdly. Something niggled at the back of his mind, but he brushed it off and said, “It’s only for one day.” 

“Tony, we don’t know them personally, how do we know they won’t do something bad?” Peter asked, panic rising in his chest in spades. 

“We don’t,” Tony agreed, “But baby, we’re in California. There’s no one we know that can watch her. It’s only for one day, and I want to celebrate our engagement. If it makes you feel better, we can give Morgan a temporary phone. She’ll call if she needs anything.” 

Peter hesitated. He was still worried - immensely, if the rate his heart was beating at wasn’t a figment of his imagination - but Tony’s suggestion was a good one. If Morgan had a line of direct contact with them, he supposed it wouldn’t be too bad to hire a babysitter. 

“Okay,” he said finally.

Morgan wasn’t happy about their decision to go out. She didn’t want to be left behind to sit in the mansion alone, but she was significantly more cheerful when she found out that someone would come to play with her while they were away. 

Tony gave her a burner phone before they left. It only had his and Peter’s contacts in it, and he instructed her to keep it hidden from the babysitter. He didn’t tell her his reasoning for it, but if the babysitter turned out to be a bad one, he had no doubt that she’d take the phone from Morgan to stop her from contacting him or Peter.

The babysitter was a woman in her forties named Janine. She had a kind smile and gentle eyes, and she assured them that she would keep an eye on Morgan the entire time they were gone. 

When the front door shut behind them, Janine turned to Morgan, her smile sliding off of her face. “Have you eaten yet?”

“Daddy said you were gonna feed me,” Morgan shook her head, following her to the kitchen. 

Janine picked a random cabinet and opened it, pulling out the first thing her eyes caught, which happened to be a box of Cheez-Its. She picked it up and tossed it to Morgan, who eyed it with both confusion and glee.

“Papa says junk food is for snacks,” Morgan voiced, in case her new friend wasn’t aware. 

“It’s food, it doesn’t matter,” Janine sighed, “You can have the Cheez-Its or nothing. Up to you.” 

Morgan frowned but obediently tore open the box, stuffing her mouth with handfuls of Cheez-Its. As she munched on her breakfast, Janine walked around the kitchen, inspecting it. She spotted the bar and went around the counter to root through the bottles. 

“A Dalmore 62,” she breathed, eyes widening in shock, “Oh, this will get me a pretty penny.” 

She was halfway through sliding the bottle into her bag when FRIDAY spoke up, saying, “As per protocol, I will have to notify the Malibu Police Department if you don’t return the bottle. Thirty second countdown initiated.” 

Janine swore, swiftly yanking the bottle out of her bag and putting it back in its place among the other bottles. Then she went back to Morgan, her face hot with embarrassment and anger. 

“What’s wrong?” Morgan asked, setting her breakfast on the counter to lean towards her babysitter. 

“Nothing,” Janine snapped, “Are you done eating? God knows you don’t need too much of it.” 

Morgan blinked in confusion, but nodded, jumping down from her seat. “Can we play now? Daddy got me a LEGO set and I started building it with Papa, but they said I can do it with you too.”

“I’m too busy,” Janine ushered her towards the couch and turned on the TV, leaving her to watch Paw Patrol in the living room. 

“With what?” Morgan wondered, “I thought we were gonna play.” 

“It’s none of your business,” Janine rolled her eyes, “Now watch your cartoon or I’ll put you in the corner.” 

“Mommy says that putting children in corners is not an effective punishment,” Morgan recited proudly. 

Janine tensed up. “Don’t talk back to me.” 

“What does that mean?” Morgan asked curiously. If she knew what it was, she could apologize for it. All of her parents said that apologizing was a good thing, and she wanted to please them. 

Janine pinched the bridge of her nose. “God, Molly wasn’t exaggerating when she said you were annoying. No wonder she put me up to this.” 

“Up to what? You know Molly?” Morgan wiggled excitedly, “I know Molly too! Maybe she wanted us all to be friends so we could all have tea parties together. But not with Tia. Tia’s mean and she never shares her toys. And I’m not annoying.” 

“Sure you aren’t,” Janine patted her head sardonically.

Morgan beamed, happy that her new friend seemed to have changed her mind. “Can we play now?” 

“No, you brat,” Janine started making her way out of the room. 

“Please?” Morgan followed after her, brown eyes shining with hope.

Janine turned back and slapped her, causing her to tumble to the ground. Morgan fell with a loud cry, hands flying up to hold her stinging cheek. 

“I said _no_.”


	26. Chapter 26

“Boss,” FRIDAY chimed from the speakers in Tony’s glasses, “Janine hit Morgan.” 

Tony dropped the glass in his hand, which shattered as soon as it struck the floor, attracting the attention of both the restaurant staff and the other customers. Peter, who was coming back from the bathroom, quickened his pace with a concerned look on his face. A waiter followed at Peter’s heels, dustpan and broom in hand.

“Is everything alright, sir?” the waiter asked, kneeling to brush the shards of glass into his dustpan. 

“No,” Tony breathed out, shock stiffening his limbs, “Get me the cheque, now. Cancel our orders. I have an emergency to get to.” 

He didn’t offer any further explanations, and the waiter didn’t question him, abandoning his cleanup to get the cheque. When Iron Man said he had an emergency to get to, you didn’t stop him from leaving - not when it could lead to destruction and death. 

“FRIDAY, give me the footage,” Tony demanded, eyes boring through the lenses of his sunglasses. 

A video materialized in the left lens, playing the interaction between Janine and Morgan, and moving on to what was presently happening once it ended. Beside him, Peter’s hands curled into fists, knuckles whitening as his sensitive hearing picked up on what Tony was listening to. He didn’t need to see what Tony was seeing to understand what was going on. Wordlessly, he slid on his web shooters, preparing to leave the establishment.

“Tony,” Peter placed a hand on his shoulder, “Go. I’ll handle the cheque and catch up to you.” 

Tony didn’t hesitate to spring from his chair and stalk out of the restaurant. Peter watched through the window as he suited up and shot into the clear sky. When Tony disappeared from his sight, Peter picked up his phone and dialled a number he never thought he’d have to call as a civilian. 

“911, what’s your emergency?”

Peter barely stopped himself from crushing his phone at the words he had to say. “My daughter is being abused by her babysitter and I’m not home.”

“Where are they?” 

“10880 Malibu Point, 90265,” Peter rattled off. 

He was finishing his conversation with the dispatcher when the waiter returned with the cheque. He paid for his and Tony’s untouched food, was given his card back, and left to scale the walls of the restaurant in order to reach the roof. Once there, he jumped off, snagging his web onto the closest building. The buildings were shorter in California, but he persevered, his feet skimming the tops of cars as he soared through the streets. Swinging was always the fastest way for Peter to reach his destination, so he kept at it until he arrived at a familiar mansion. 

The cops weren’t there yet, but Tony was, judging by the giant hole in the front door. He’d likely flown through the door, too focused on helping his daughter to stop for something as time-consuming as opening a door, and Peter followed suit, hopping through the hole to be greeted with shouts. 

Janine was trembling on the carpet, back pressed against the wall as Tony towered over her with a repulsor to her head. Peter searched the room for Morgan and found her in the corner, tawny eyes wide at the scene. 

“Tony, not right now,” Peter tried, pulling his arm away from Janine’s forehead despite his own fury. 

Tony glared at him scaldingly. “Are you fucking kidding me?” 

“Morgan is right here,” Peter said through gritted teeth, “I know you’re angry. I am too. But she doesn’t need to see this.”

“Take her out of the room,” Tony ordered, already turning back to the babysitter.

Peter didn’t balk at the authoritative tone, grasping Morgan’s hand in his and leading her to her bedroom, where she wouldn’t be able to hear the commotion. He shut the door behind them and pulled her into a firm hug.

“Are you okay?” Peter asked softly, his heart breaking when he felt a tear land on his shoulder. 

Morgan clutched his shirt tightly. “I don’t like Janine, Papa. You said she was gonna be my friend but she’s mean. I don’t want her to be my friend anymore.” 

“You’ll never have to see her again,” Peter promised fiercely, pulling back a little so that she could see he meant it.

Morgan’s eyes, shiny with tears, dipped to her feet. “She hit me.” 

“I know, Mo,” Peter’s face tightened at the reminder, “Does your face hurt?”

Morgan lifted a hand towards her reddening cheek, dropping it before it could make contact with the tender skin. “Yeah.” 

“I’ll give you some ice later,” Peter picked her up, seating her in his lap once he finished settling on her bed, “But I have to make sure you know something first. This was not your fault. You didn’t do anything to make her hit you, and there’s nothing wrong with you. Janine is just a bad person.” 

It was important to him that if Morgan took anything away from this situation, it was that. He had a long history with self-blame and self-disgust; had been battling both since he was nine and suffering under the hands of his own babysitter. It led to numerous hot showers that racked up the bills for May and Ben, years of therapy that proved to be ineffective, and long periods of depression in which he’d lay in bed and wonder what it was about him that attracted such an evil human being, or if he deserved what had happened to him.

He never wanted Morgan to undergo anything similar to what he had. His concession to getting a babysitter for her had only done the opposite, and he hated it.

“I know, Papa,” Morgan’s voice was muffled where it was pressed against his shirt, but he heard her anyway, and didn’t make her move. 

“I love you,” Peter tightened his arms, hugging her closer.

It was his first time saying those words to her. He’d felt that way for a while now, but had been waiting for the right time to tell her. Apparently, the right time was when she was sitting in his lap with an aching cheek and tears streaming down her face.

It didn’t matter. He had a feeling that this was exactly when she needed to hear it.

Morgan moved her head, revealing her gaping mouth. “Really?” 

“Really,” Peter threw her an endeared smile, “I love you lots.” 

“I love you too,” she threw herself back onto his chest, small arms coming up to circle his neck and hug him back.

Peter’s ears picked up on wailing sirens that grew louder as they approached the house. He glanced out the window and saw a cop car pull into the driveway. Peter hesitated, stuck between wanting to see first-hand what was going to happen now, and wanting to stay with Morgan and continue to comfort her. She seemed alright for now, snuggled against his chest, and he loathed to disturb her peace. Still, he slid her off of himself and handed her a book. 

“Read that, okay?” Peter opened the door to her bedroom, “I’ll be right back. Stay here.” 

After receiving an obedient nod from Morgan, he shut the door and went to the living room, where Janine was being cuffed by a policeman. Tony was standing beside them, vicious scowl in place and Iron Man suit still on. Janine’s face was layered in bruises, painted in a red that Peter knew would soon turn into various degrees of black and blue. He had no doubt that, if Tony didn’t have his status, he would have faced repercussions for what the court would deem ‘excessive force’. 

Peter had no problem with Tony getting off scot-free. In fact, he found himself wishing that Tony had inflicted more damage, but the police officer’s arrival had put a stop to that.

He supposed that that was how he knew he was settling nicely into his relatively new role as a parent. At this point, he would do just about anything for Morgan.

Tony spotted him by the entrance and joined him. “How is she?”

“She’s okay,” Peter assured him, “She says her face hurts, and she was upset earlier, but she’s okay for now.”

“I guess that’s all I can hope for,” Tony sighed, rubbing his face with one hand.

“She’s resilient, she’ll be alright,” Peter said confidently, “She takes after her daddy that way.” 

Tony passed him a tired smile. “She takes after her papa, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you celebrate, Merry Christmas!


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Past rape/non-con will be referenced in this chapter (no explicit scenes, only a discussion)

It was after they put Morgan to bed that the adrenaline drained out of Peter’s body, leaving him sullen and weary where he sat on the front steps of the mansion. Tony didn’t let him brood alone for long, joining him outside with a blanket that he draped over his shoulders. His arm followed, settling protectively on top of the fabric, and he tucked Peter into his side with a small sigh. 

“I’ve been thinking about this for a few months,” Tony started, choosing his words with meticulous care, “But you were always a little cagey whenever I brought up babysitters.” 

“And I was right to be,” Peter said dryly, referencing the day’s events. 

Tony’s eyes darkened. “That she-devil will never see the light of day again. But I’m not talking about her right now, and you know that, baby.” 

Peter turned over the edge of the blanket in his hands, studying the blue patterns etched into it as he fought to calm his racing thoughts. He knew what Tony was asking about, had been thinking about it since hearing the footage play out in Tony’s glasses, but had pushed it to the most hidden crevices of his mind in his desperation to help Morgan. As soon as she fell asleep, he’d gone back to thinking about it. And now Tony wanted to know what ‘it’ was. 

It would feel good to finally, after years of suffering, tell someone about what had plagued him for so long, poisoning him and those he was close to as he scrambled to keep them away from the very thing that had indirectly hurt them. And there was no safer person to confide in than his future husband. 

Peter opened his mouth. 

“When I was nine, I met a guy at a library,” he said, his words dripping with grief as he struggled to articulate them, “I didn’t have any friends at the time, and he was my first. I thought he was so cool. He saw me reading a textbook and praised me, said I was an Einstein in the making, and it became his nickname for me. He walked me home that day, and we found out that we were neighbors. 

“May and Ben were great, of course, but they both had to work and couldn’t leave me at school, because I was on summer vacation. That’s where Skip came in; he offered to babysit me for free, and they agreed. He watched me for three months, and at first it was great. But then he started showing me these adult magazines, and saying he wanted to play a game with me. He wanted us to do what the people in the magazines were doing. I said no, but he said we always played what I wanted, and that it wasn’t fair that he didn’t get to play anything he liked. I didn’t want to lose my only friend, so I agreed to play. 

“Things escalated. I never liked his game, especially because he was always rough and it hurt a lot, but I couldn’t tell anyone about it or he’d stop being friends with me. Ben walked in on us one day - I’d never seen him so angry - and Skip went to prison.” 

Tony was breathing heavily next to him, his grip on his shoulders bruisingly tight, and Peter chanced a look at him. He was seething, enraged eyes boring into the pavement, before the anger gave way to pain. Pain for Peter, the younger man noted with surprise, and there was no hint of disgust. 

A part of Peter had been worried that Tony would look at him differently after finding out about Skip. He’d never felt so thankful for being wrong about something. 

“I’m going to kill that piece of shit,” Tony’s nails dug into his palm, but he barely felt the sharp sting as he asked, “Are you okay? You know none of that was your fault, right?” 

Peter shrugged, a woeful smile flickering on his lips. “It varies. I’ve come to terms with it, mostly, and I know that I couldn’t really do anything at the time to stop him. I know it wasn’t my fault, but sometimes it’s hard to believe it.” 

“I’ll tell you every day,” Tony pledged, “Every day until you believe it, and even after that.”

Peter clasped Tony’s hands in his own, the smile he directed at their intertwined palms several degrees warmer than the last one had been, and leaned further into his side. He couldn’t have asked for a better fiancé. 

The next day was spent preparing for Thanksgiving dinner, which Pepper was flying in for with May, Rhodey, and Happy. Morgan was bouncing off the walls in anticipation, looking forward to their arrival, and wouldn’t stop telling Tony and Peter about all the games she was going to play with them. 

They were grateful for the distraction that the holiday provided. If Morgan was rummaging through her toys in search of the ones she wanted to show off to the guests, she wasn’t thinking about Janine or what had happened yesterday. 

Pepper had been informed of the incident as soon as the cop left with Janine. She had nearly burst into tears over the phone, and had told them that she’d be arriving earlier than planned to thoroughly look over her daughter. Neither Tony nor Peter had minded, though they made sure to promise that beyond the bruise that had blossomed on Morgan’s cheek, she was alright. 

The table was set, filled to the brim with food and cutlery, when the doorbell rang. Morgan lunged off of the couch and ran to the front door, jumping in place as Tony reminded her that she wasn’t allowed to open it herself. The reminder was a bit pointless, since the door had a gaping hole through which they could see their guests - courtesy of Tony flying through it on the previous day - but he figured that he wasn’t hurting anyone by enforcing his rules for Morgan. 

Rhodey crouched a little to peer through the hole. “I gotta say, Tones, interior design is not for you.” 

Tony yanked the door open, greeting everyone with a sunny smile. “I’m Tony Stark, Rhodes. I can do anything.” 

His friends scoffed and shuffled inside, hugging Morgan in turns and surreptitiously scanning her to see the extent to which she’d been harmed. Peter urged them all to take their seats at the table and took hold of Tony’s arm, steering him to the kitchen. 

“Are you sure we have everything?” Peter bit his lip, chewing on it anxiously as he searched the kitchen for anything that might be missing from the dining table. 

Tony unhooked his lip from his teeth, smoothing over the indents with his thumb. “Calm down, sweetheart. We have everything.” 

He took Peter back to the dining room before he could say anything else, pulling out his chair for him and sitting down next to him. Now that the hosts were where they were meant to be, the dinner began. 

“So, Tony,” May began, looking up from where she was cutting her turkey, “I know that you and Peter have been dating for about half a year. How’s that been going for you two?” 

Tony glanced at Peter with a small smile, before saying, “We’re engaged now, so I’d say it’s going great.” 

Everyone’s hands stilled, and it was comical, the way they all stared at him and Peter as if they’d grown two heads overnight. Morgan paid them no mind, concentrated on the mashed potatoes she was scooping into her mouth, and Rhodey took advantage of her distracted state to say: 

“You son of a bitch. Already?” he didn’t look confused or upset, merely leaning over to clap Tony on the back in celebration. 

May placed a hand on Peter’s arm, gaining his attention. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

“I am,” Peter confirmed, blushing, “And Tony’s the one who asked, so I know he is, too. Unless he changed his mind.” 

“Oh, no, honey,” Tony planted a kiss onto the side of his head, “You’re stuck with me for life.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!


	28. Chapter 28

“Peter, I know you’re happy with Tony,” May said, handing the young man another plate to rinse, “But have you thought this through? Marriage is a big deal. And this is Tony’s second time going through it.” 

“I wouldn’t have said yes if I wasn’t sure,” Peter turned away from her defensively, jerkily wedging the plate into the rack to dry. 

May sighed, gripping his elbow with a firm hand and pulling it, forcing him to swivel back to facing her. “Don’t get upset - all I want is for you to be happy. I just want to know you aren’t rushing into anything.” 

“I know,” Peter softened, “I think we’re going at a nice pace, and I don’t see myself regretting this.” 

“That’s all I wanted to hear,” May smiled warmly. 

A knock on the doorframe of the kitchen had them turning in unison. Pepper stood at the doorway, her forehead wrinkled in stress as she said, “There’s something you need to see.” 

They followed her to the living room, where everyone else was watching the news on the TV. A gasp fell from Peter’s lips when he noticed a picture of himself on the screen, showing him swinging from the buildings in California without his suit or mask. It had been taken the day he’d gone rushing home to Morgan - the only time he’d had to use his web-shooters during their vacation. He hadn’t been thinking about his alter ego when he’d jumped off of the roof of the restaurant. Clearly, his lack of forethought was coming back to bite him in the ass. 

Tony shut off the TV, worrying at his bottom lip before saying, “We should probably host a press conference and confirm the rumors. There’s no way to spin this, Pete.” 

Peter’s face fell as despair wracked his body. He wasn’t naive enough to hope for a different outcome, but he also wasn’t ready for everyone to know Spider-Man’s identity. He supposed he wasn’t going to have a private life either way, because it was only a matter of time before the media found out about his relationship with Tony. They’d be all over that sooner than he could say ‘nosy’. 

“I’ll set it up,” Pepper said, already pulling her phone out of her purse, “What about the engagement? Should I tell them about that too?” 

“Peter and I,” Tony corrected, “Are not telling them anything about us. They don’t need to know that we’re dating, and we’re keeping it that way for the foreseeable future.”

Despite the tension in the room, Peter melted. He was grateful that they were in the ‘we’ stage of their relationship. Tony was in tune with his emotions and didn’t need to speak to Peter to know what to say. There was no ‘we’ll talk about it later and let you know’. 

Pepper nodded, not oblivious to the reprimand in Tony’s correction, and left the room with her phone pressed to her ear. May rubbed Peter’s back in support, leading him to the couch and sitting down next to him. Tony joined him at his other side, placing a grounding hand onto his knee. 

“Are you okay?” Tony asked, checking that Morgan was still occupied with her toys before searching Peter’s face for any signs of distress. 

“Yeah,” Peter nodded resolutely, “I just wasn’t ready to be outed. It sucks.” 

Pepper arranged for a press conference to be set up in New York. They would have two days to prepare for it once they came home from the trip, and the PR team was already writing a script for Peter to follow on the day of the conference. 

Those few days weren’t blissful. Tony had his tailor fix up a suit for Peter after sending him the correct measurements, and Peter worked on his public speaking, his fear of it having followed him into adulthood from the throes of high school. Morgan kept them both relatively distracted with her constant chatter and demands for entertainment. The flight home was worse than the flight to Malibu had been; Morgan was uncomfortable the entire time and made them suffer for it with her tantrums and squirms. Even then, they didn’t mind it much. It kept their minds from drifting towards what was awaiting them in New York. 

When the day of the press conference finally arrived, the hall it was being hosted at was filled to the brim with reporters and journalists. Peter waited in the wings of the stage as Tony introduced him, staring at his new leather shoes in anticipation until he heard his cue. He went onto the stage and stood at the podium, his soul shriveling up when Tony went back to the wings to watch him with Morgan, leaving him to be ripped into by his audience. 

“Hey everyone,” Peter started in a shaky voice, “I’m Peter Parker. You may have seen me on the news. I’m here to confirm that I am Spider-Man.” 

Immediately, the reporters thrusted their mics closer to him, elbowing each other in their efforts to reach the podium. 

Peter continued over the uproar. “I cannot disclose why I had to use my webs in Malibu, as it is a private matter-”

“Don’t you think the public should be made aware of something that could endanger them?” a blonde woman called out. 

“This was a personal matter,” Peter answered indulgently, changing his choice of words to clear up any possible misunderstandings, “It’s not related to the public in any way.” 

“How long have you been Spider-Man?” a man with thick-framed glasses asked, shuffling impossibly closer. 

Peter faltered. He wasn’t sure what to do; he was just supposed to deliver his speech and leave. But he’d answered one question, and that seemed to get the ball rolling, because suddenly there was a massive influx of questions swarming him from every direction. Peter took a step back, his breath quickening as the flashes of the cameras stabbed at his sight, joining forces with the tingling of his ears in order to overwhelm him. 

He was brought out of his panicked state when a small hand clutched at the front of his shirt protectively, and an equally young voice bellowed at the crowd, “Leave Papa alone!” 

A hush fell over the reporters before the noise doubled back, bringing questions such as, “Is that Morgan Stark?” 

Peter had had enough. He gingerly picked up Morgan and escaped the stage, ducking into the wings where Tony was waiting with a horrified look on his face. 

“She just slipped out,” Tony flailed wildly, “By the time I noticed, she was up there with you.” 

“It’s fine,” Peter assured him, taking a moment to calm the jackrabbiting of his own heart, “But, hey. Didn’t I tell you that Parker Luck was a thing?”


	29. Chapter 29

“You’re going to have to do an interview,” Pepper sat down briskly, “We’ll have control over the questions. Like it or not, the media won’t stop badgering you until they get some answers.”

Tony chimed in, “They won’t stop after that, either, Petey. Get ready to have every move you make be watched by the entire world.” 

“I guess it had to happen at some point,” Peter ran a tired hand down his face. 

“Do you want to tell them about us?” Tony glanced down at Morgan, who was lying at their feet and coloring, “And Morgan?” 

Peter didn’t have to think about it much. “Yeah. If I’m going to have zero privacy, I’d rather not have big secrets to keep. I’ll mention you two at the interview.”

“There are several talk shows who have reached out,” Pepper tapped the screen on her phone to pull up a hologram of her list, “Do you have a preference?” 

“I’ve always wanted to play with puppies,” Peter admitted, “BuzzFeed Celeb hosts interviews where you can play with puppies while answering questions. Can I do that?” 

Pepper scanned the list. “You can, but you’ll need to do at least one more interview with someone else.” 

“Jimmy Fallon would be cool,” Peter glanced at Tony, who nodded back in encouragement. 

“Perfect,” Pepper sprang up and started walking out of the room, “FRIDAY will let you know when and where the interviews will be when I finish setting them up.” 

Peter watched her leave before saying, “She still doesn’t like me much.” 

“She doesn’t like our relationship,” Tony corrected, drawing Peter into his lap in case he needed any comfort, “But she can fuck off, because I’m keeping you forever, baby.” 

A small gasp sounded from beneath their knees, and Morgan’s head popped up over the edge of the couch, staring at Tony with wide eyes. “Daddy, that’s a bad word.”

“I’m sorry, Morguna,” Tony patted her cheek with an affectionate smile, “Don’t say it, okay? That’s my word.” 

“Okay,” she agreed easily. 

Peter grunted as she climbed onto him, settling into the tiny space between himself and Tony. He moved over a bit, giving her more room to cuddle into them.

“Boss,” FRIDAY said, gaining all of their attention, “The Malibu Police Department is calling.” 

Tony’s smile slid off of his face as he moved out from under Morgan and Peter. He traded tense looks with Peter as he hurried out of the room, phone already pressed against his ear. Peter hugged Morgan closer and switched on the TV, efficiently distracting her but not himself as they waited for Tony to come back. 

When Tony returned, he looked a cross between angry and pleased, which was a combination Peter never thought he would see. Peter kissed Morgan’s cheek and took her off of his lap, ushering her to her room so that he could talk to Tony privately. 

“What did they say?” Peter asked, clutching Tony’s hands tightly. 

Tony took a deep breath. “They interrogated Janine, and she admitted that Molly put her up to this. She said that Molly was angry over your rejection, and that she knew we’d be in Malibu because you told her about it before you stopped being friends. Janine lived in Malibu and agreed to find a way to get close to us. I guess hurting Morgan was revenge for rejecting her.” 

Peter’s face dropped. “So, it was kind of my fault that Morgan got hurt.”

“If you say that, you could also say that it was my fault for not doing a more thorough background check on Janine,” Tony shrugged, “We can’t follow that line of thinking, Pete. It’ll get us nowhere.” 

“You’re right,” Peter conceded, before teasing, “Since when are you the wise one?”

“My age caught up to me,” Tony laughed, fingers twisting to start massaging Peter’s hands, “The good news is that we have footage of Janine hitting and insulting Morgan, as well as footage where she mentioned Molly. With that and her confession, we have enough to incriminate them both.” 

“Good. When’s the trial?” Peter asked, taking out his phone so that he could add the date to his calendar. 

“Not sure yet, but they’ll let us know,” Tony plucked the phone out of his hands and tossed it onto the cushion next to him.

Before Peter could protest the action, Tony planted a kiss onto his lips, smiling against his mouth when he felt Peter’s hands trail up his arms and take hold of his shoulders. After a moment, Tony pulled away, resting his forehead on Peter’s. 

“I have to start dinner,” Tony said, nose brushing against his fiance’s, “Can you set the table? And tell Morgan she can come out of her room now.”

“Yeah,” Peter stood up reluctantly, longing to maintain contact with Tony, “Just don’t set the kitchen on fire.” 

“I know you didn’t just say that to me, Mr. Can’t Make Spaghetti.” Tony snickered.

“Maybe you don’t remember in your old age, but we made that spaghetti together,” Peter shot back.

“Have I ever told you that your kindness to me is the reason I love you?” 

They had lasagna that night, and it was only slightly burnt, which Tony made sure to point out several times throughout dinner. When they finished eating, the family of three shuffled into the master suite and curled up on the bed, watching Moana on the flat screen that was hanging on the wall across from them. 

It didn’t take Morgan very long to drift off. By the time Moana returned to Motunui, the little girl was quietly snoring, sprawled out so that her head was resting on Tony’s chest, and her feet were pushing against Peter’s ribs. 

“I don’t want to take her to her bed,” Tony sighed, gently thumbing their daughter’s cheek. 

“She can stay with us tonight,” Peter murmured, face turned into his pillow as he waited for sleep to claim him. “I don’t mind when she sleeps with us.” 

Tony remembered, vividly, a time when he’d doubted that. He’d doubted a lot of things because of Molly; had wondered when Peter was being genuine, and when he wasn’t. But Peter was the most genuine person he knew. There was nothing to doubt now. 

“I know.” 


End file.
